


Challenge One: Sexpistolary

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Summer Pornathon 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 106,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for Challenge One: Sexpistolary for the 2014 Summer Pornathon.</p><p>The voting post can be found <a href="http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/101728.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Group A (warnings)

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings and warnings included in chapters 1-4.
> 
> Chapters 5-8 are repeats of chapters 1-4 without pairing and warning information.

**#1**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur (Mentions of Gwen/Lancelot, very recent past Arthur/Gwen)  
 **Warning(s):** No mandatory warnings apply. Implied emotional infidelity and a slightly insensitive handling of a break up.  
 **Text Chosen:** [(405): Just banged your ex. So it really is 'him, not you' in that he's gay. Rodeo champion gay.](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-57955.html)

Merlin pushed his face into his pillow, in denial about the fact it was 3am and his door was banging. When it persisted, he dragged himself out of bed to answer it. 

_This better be good,_ he warned whatever fates were determined to give him the night from hell.

He'd barely got the door open when someone else came through it, grabbing his face and snogging the living daylights out of him before he could so much as say good morning.

_Point made,_ he told the universe, regarding his previous comment to it.

When he was released, he was surprised to see his assailant was none other than Arthur Pendragon. Which would have been fine had Arthur not been Gwen's somewhat prattish, arrogant, seemingly straight boyfriend. Which again, would have been alright if Gwen wasn't one of his best friends. Which again, would probably have been just dandy if Merlin didn’t have the most inappropriate, infuriating crush on him.

"I broke up with Guinevere," Arthur said by way of explanation, which was no explanation at all really. 

Merlin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying _good_. She was his friend after all. "What happened?" he asked instead.

"The long version or the short version?"

"What the hell, it's only three in the morning, the night is young, let's have the long version," Merlin sighed.

"Guinevere and I decided it would be mutually beneficial to see other people due certain incompatibilities, such as the fact she’s fallen for another man and so have I.”

“Wait, so you’re gay?” Merlin asked as Arthur took a step towards him, distracting him from working out what the rest meant. He knew about Lance but Arthur... was here with him. It would explain a lot, the break up for one, the kiss for another and the rather obvious erection that was pressing against his thigh now they were so close for a third. "And the short version?"

"Is that I," Arthur started, leaning into him until their lips practically touched, both breathing the same air, not daring to break the almost unbearable tension. "Really want you to fuck me."

Merlin let out the breath Arthur's proximity had halted. He knew he shouldn't but if Arthur knew about Lance, maybe Gwen knew about this. Maybe she gave her blessing. Maybe she was upside down, hanging off the bed by now - _ah fuck it_ , he decided, launching himself at Arthur the same way Arthur had done to him.

It took no time at all to get Arthur out of his clothes, though somehow they still didn’t have time to make it to the bed, making do with the nearby sofa. Half of him knew that they couldn’t really fuck, not on ninety seconds notice but just as he was about to say so, Arthur straddled his legs and guided his fingers towards his hole, already stretched and lubed up for him.

“Well, you came prepared,” Merlin couldn’t help but say. “Boy scout?”

“Merlin,” Arthur demanded impatiently, grinding down into Merlin’s lap.

“Alright, calm down,” Merlin said, pushing down his check pyjama bottoms so Arthur could slide agonizingly slowly down onto his cock. He closed his eyes against the heat, again asking the universe what the hell it was playing at while adamantly not complaining about it. Arthur gripped the back of the sofa, using it to anchor himself as he rolled his hips taking Merlin deeper, over and over, the sensation threatening to overwhelm him. His final thought before spilling himself inside Arthur was there was that he certainly wasn’t new at this.

The next morning, having finally made it to bed, Merlin woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He leaned over Arthur to get it, glancing down at him guiltily when Gwen's name flashed across the screen.

"Did you tell her you were coming here?" Merlin asked.

"Not exactly..." Arthur said.

"What did you say then?" Merlin asked watching the call go through to voicemail.

“It’s not you, it’s me?” Arthur said, cringing at it himself.

“You can’t tell her that. Nobody actually says that and means it. She’ll think it’s her, even though it’s _clearly_ not.” Merlin shook his head and opened up his messages, hitting the most recent one from Gwen.

_Just banged your ex. So it really is 'him, not you' in that he's gay._ Merlin paused then added, _Rodeo champion gay._

“There, fixed it. You’re welcome.” Merlin said, throwing his phone onto the bedside table. “Fancy another go?”

* * *

 **#2**  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning:** unsafe driving  
"We should at least try it once," Arthur says giving Merlin a side glance, "Cross it off our bucket list."  
 **Text chosen:** (402) Drove by a guy getting road head midday on O Street. That could be us, bu you won't let me in your pants when you drive.

"You mean your bucket list," Merlin says giving him an irritated look as he slouches back into the car seat. 

"Don't you even want to try? " Arthur ignores the way that came out almost too plaintively. 

Merlin sighs and shakes his head a little. Arthur feels a sharp sense of fondness as he watches Merlin frown biting down on his lower lip. That quickly changes to arousal as thoughts of those lips wrapped around his cock pop into his head. 

"And you really think that you won't crash the car? Pretty sure that's why the guy made it onto the evening news." 

"What?" Arhur asks distractedly, pushing thoughts of Merlin on his knees aside and trying to pay attention to the road. "I'm not going to crash. Look I'm pretty sure I can handle it." 

"Oh," Merlin replies, going still beside him, "And what do you mean by that?" 

Arthur completely misses the odd inflection in Merlin's voice. "That I can still drive and get a blow job at the same time." 

"What do I get if you can't? " 

"I'll go to that music festival with you." "Really? " Merlin asks incredulously, "You've refused every time I even thought about bringing it up." 

"Yeah well, your taste in music leaves much to be desired."

"Says the person with all of One Directions music on their phone."

"You like them too," Artur says, "And I heard you and Gwen cooing over Harry."

"We didn't coo and my music taste has always been bad according to you."

"And," Arthur adds ignoring him, "If I can't, I'll hang out with Will willingly the next time he's in town. " 

Merlin tilts his head in consideration, his mouth giving way to a slow smirk, "You're on." 

He leans in close, and Arthur is suddenly glad that they're at a stop light as Merlin murmurs low to his ear, "But you're going to lose. " 

Arthur shifts as he tries not to react to the promise in Merlin's voice but the smug look Merlin gives him as he glances down at Arhur's lap says otherwise.

::::: 

It doesn't happen until they're driving through the long back roads of the Welsh countryside two weeks later that Merlin unbuckles his seat belt, twisting in his car seat and sliding his hand up Arthur's thigh, his palm warm through the fabric of Arthur's trousers. 

His fingers dart to Arthur's fly and deftly he pulls it down, hand firmly wrapping around Arthur's cock. Arthur nearly swerves off the road. 

"Some warning would've been nice, " Arthur says, voice faltering as Merlin strokes him through his boxers. Merlin gives him an arched look, amusement evident in his voice, "Consider this your warning. " 

Moments later when Merlin's mouth is warm around his cock, his tongue teasing across the slit, Arthur's fingers are clenching at Merlin's hair. There are no cars in front of him as far as he can see, and he's suddenly very glad that Merlin picked now of all times. 

Merlin's gives a sharp pull and Arthur head thuds back against the head rest, eyes fluttering shut as he shudders out a breath. 

There's a loud pop and cool air and Arthur blinks at Merlin. "You aren't paying attention to the road. Are you meaning to drive into the ditch. "

It takes Arthur another second to look away from swollen red lips and the half-lidded eyes to realize that he was steadily driving off the road. With a quick pull of the steering wheel Arthur brings them back on the road. 

"I thought you said you can drive while getting a blow job, " Merlin says teasingly. 

"And I thought you were in the middle of said blow job," Arthur replies annoyed, the past few minutes doing nothing to his state of arousal. 

"Prat, Merlin replies almost fondly, his fingers wrapping once again around Arthur. 

"And yet you still love---" Arthur starts, breaking off as Merlin mouth slides over him again, tongue flittering across the underside of his shaft.  
Arthur tries to part his hips wider to give Merlin more room while trying not to take his foot off the accelerator. He has to place both hands on the steering wheel as Merlin bobs up and down, fingers gripping tensely as he tries to pay attention but its like he really isn't seeing the road lost in the feel of Merlin's warm mouth. 

A Merlin manages to reach down, fingers teasing his balls and a low hum working across his throat, Arthur pulls the car sharply aside off the road to park, hands then coming to curl through Merlin's hair. 

Merlin picks up the pace as Arthur tightens his fingers, his hips tensed as he tries hard not to rock up. Merlin hums low and Arthur shudders as he comes hard. 

Panting heavily as Merlin sucks him through before coming up breathing loudly. 

Frantically Merlin tugs at his own pants but Arthur knocks his hand aside before unzipping him and with a few quick pulls, Merlin's coming as well and Arthur pulling him through it. 

Merlin leans heavily against him and breathing loudly for a few seconds. 

"That was," Merlin starts. 

"Yeah," Arthur manages weakly. 

"You're not allowed to make fun of him. Or at least no fighting.," Merlin says after a moment.  
"Fine," Arthur says grudgingly before pressing Merlin a quick kiss.

* * *

 **#3**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Gwaine  
 **Warning(s):** no warnings apply  
 **Text Chosen:** (318): tonight lets celebrate not being married

“Long live the Queen!” Merlin chokes on the words a little, swallows. “Long live the Queen,” he shouts along with the others, but the odd lump in his throat won’t budge. Traitorous tears push through despite his best efforts.

_People will think they’re happy tears_ , he hopes. And he is happy: happy for Gwen, glowing in her crown. Happy for Arthur, too, for finding love, and maybe even peace. He is definitely _not_ crying for himself, for what he’s lost wasn’t his to lose in the first place.

He slips from the main hall, where the celebrations are slowly winding down, and wanders toward the eastern rampart. Camelot looks best from here, he thinks, where the icy stars shine in the black sky. He tells himself he’s facing the dawn, even though the sunrise is hours away. Merlin won’t allow himself to think about the married couple ensconced in their chambers, nor how daybreak will find them.

The stones are hard and cold under his elbows when he leans heavily on the wall. His tankard of wine is half-empty next to him, abandoned. He’s not sure he’d be able to swallow now anyway. 

“Don’t think he doesn’t care about you,” Gwaine says, startling Merlin. He sits down next to Merlin on the wall and takes a gulp from the jug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?”

“Camelot needs a queen. Princess may be a first class arsehole, but he’d never take advantage of you in this way. He’d never make you his—“

“No, he wouldn’t.” Merlin nods, not pretending that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He takes a long breath, wishing the choking sensation would leave him.

“It suits you,” Gwaine says.

Gwaine’s hand is on his robes, fingers playing idly with the fabric near Merlin’s throat. He’s a hairsbreadth away from touching Merlin’s skin. There’s something about the gesture that makes Merlin feel… _better_.

“I need to give it back tomorrow,” he says of the borrowed raiment.  
Gwaine’s palm moves to cup Merlin’s head gently. Merlin can feel the warmth of his body, can smell the sweet wine on Gwaine’s breath. 

He lets his gaze lock with Gwaine’s. He nods, a light movement, barely there.  
“Let them have their night,” Gwaine says, caressing Merlin’s neck with his fingers. “Tonight let’s celebrate not being married.”

When he kisses Merlin it’s hard and urgent. His beard scratches Merlin’s skin. _This is good_ , Merlin thinks as he tangles his own fingers in Gwaine’s hair, tugging hard. 

Gwaine smiles against the kiss and pulls on Merlin in return, baring Merlin’s throat so he can bite it lightly.

***

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Gwaine asks.

“Of course.” Merlin huffs, breathless a bit, because Gwaine’s oil-slicked fingers are knuckles-deep inside him. And maybe Gwaine should’ve asked before instead of after they’d stumbled onto Merlin’s cot, naked and impatient. “M’not—“ He gasps when Gwaine pulls his fingers out, holds Merlin’s thighs open, and pushes his cock inside Merlin’s stretched arse, hard. “M’not a hermit.”

And then it doesn’t matter that Gwaine’s eyes are the wrong colour, that his hair is long and curly, and that his voice is different than the one Merlin wants to hear. What matters is the beautiful stretch inside of Merlin, this feeling of his magic building up, leaking out of his body like a golden mist, clearing space for breath so he can finally inhale freely. And if a broken moan escapes him on an exhale, at least it clears the lump away. 

What matters is that he feels better. Maybe not best, but _better_ , and he’ll take it.

As they lie there later, entangled and spent, the magic that had flared up before settles down inside Merlin. He feels Gwaine’s seed slowly trickling out, and his own come drying on his stomach.

Gwaine entwines his fingers with Merlin’s, pulling him closer, and Merlin lets him.

***

“I won't tell,” Gwaine says in the morning, tying up the laces of his breeches.

“I don't mind,” Merlin mutters. It’s not like anyone would be shocked. Gwaine has a reputation, after all.

“No.” Gwaine shakes his head, pulling on his shoes. “Not this. I won't tell about the magic. I'll take your secret to the grave if I have to.”

He kisses Merlin on the cheek and is gone.

* * *

 **#4**  
 **Pairing:** Merlin/Uther  
 **Warnings:** Age difference (of around 20 years)  
 **Text Chosen:** (409): He could only go twice. I need a guy with more stamina and is less married

“Oh my god, you didn’t.”

Merlin smiles and takes a pull of his cigarette. 

“No, Merlin,” Will says. “Merlin. Merlin. Merls.”

“Calm down, will you,” Merlin mutters. 

“I’ll calm down when you tell me that you absolutely _did not_ sleep with your boss.”

Merlin shrugs and smiles again. He nods in the direction of Will’s hand. Will impatiently flicks his own cigarette and Merlin’s gaze follows the ashes’ delicate fall to the ground. “I did,” is all he says.

“Fuck,” Will’s eloquent reaction comes out coated in a puff of grey smoke. 

“Yeah,” Merlin agrees. They’re quiet for about a minute until Will’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Have you even slept with Arthur yet?” He asks. Merlin shakes his head as he bends down and stubs his cigarette on the ground between his feet. Will follows him a second later and they drop then butts in Merlin's empty coffee cup. “Shit. Do you still want to?”

Merlin puts the cup on the bench next to him and stretches his legs in front of himself, taking his time to reply. "Kinda. And if he's anything like his dad..."

"That good?"

Merlin chuckles, then rubs his eyes and sighs. It's way too early for this, but he asked for it. He has to to talk to someone before he goes to work and faces Arthur - colleague, best friend, and as of last night - son of the man who shagged Merlin's brains out. Twice.

"That good, Will," Merlin says, heaving another sigh. "It was fucking impressive."

Will just stares at him for a moment and Merlin can almost see him struggling between curiosity and his wish to have as little intimate knowledge of Merlin’s love life as possible.

“Okay, fuck, I’ll ask. How was it?”

“He was… gentle. Much more than you’d expect,” Merlin muses, remembering the way Uther had slowly undressed him and kissed and worshipped every bit of skin revealed. The way he’d sucked his cock with something akin to reverence; made Merlin moan and gasp whenever Uther sunk down low enough for his stubble to scratch the tender skin of Merlin’s thighs.

“Gentle,” Will repeats.

“Yeah… Until I didn’t want him to be gentle anymore.”

“Jesus, Merls.”

“Yeah,” Merlin chuckles. It sends shivers down his spine when he remembers the tight grip Uther had on Merlin’s hips, the way he chuckled before he thrust into him, fast, _hard._

“So… do you have a thing for older men, now?”

“No,” Merlin laughs. “I think I got a thing for Uther, though.” He’s not sure if that thing is anything more than a massive boner.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know,” Merlin sighs. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“A couple of times,” Will nods. 

“Well he’s… You know how he’s really posh and… proper, yeah?” Will nods again. “It kinda hot. But it gets even hotter when he drops it all.”

It wasn’t just hot, it was fucking disarming. Merlin had felt an odd kind of nervousness when he’d knocked on Uther’s door last night, even if the case they had to discuss wasn’t particularly complicated. And then Uther had opened the door, wearing slacks and a t-shirt and a friendly smile, appearing the exact opposite of Merlin was used to seeing. Merlin would have dropped on his knees to suck him off even if it wasn’t for the pleasant, almost intimate conversation they’d ended up having over a glass of wine. 

“I spent the night,” Merlin says. _Woke up to him moving closer and wrapping a hand around my cock. Rode him and screamed his name, still loose from last night, not even an hour ago._ “Arthur’s gonna know.”

“What, Uther’s gonna tell him?” Will startles.

“What? No, of course not,” feeling sick at the mere notion. “He’ll notice I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He always does,” he mutters, unwilling to think about Arthur paying close attention to him right now.

“Shit, Merls.” 

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That I don’t know.”

They’re silent for another minute, and then Merlin’s phone vibrates, notifying him of a text from an unknown number.

_You forgot your scarf here_

“Shit,” Merlin groans. His phone buzzes again.

_Might find another use for it tonight?_

Merlin laughs. “I should go.”

“Good luck, mate,” Will says and pats his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he laughs again. ”Thanks.”

* * *

 **#5**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/ Arthur/ Gwen  
 **Warnings:** \--  
 **Text Chosen:** (321): Laying in bed naked with the guy I just fucked, talking to his WIFE who's sitting across from us like we're having a fucking tea party. This is interesting.

 

The last thing Merlin expected after an amazing weekend of being fucked was to wake up to the form of someone rustling through the drawers directly in his field of vision. A distinctly female form. With a great ass..

And Merlin could tell she had a great ass because her naked body was protected from his gaze only by a thin lilac robe.

As such Merlin felt completely justified with his response because, seriously, who the fuck robs someone in only a robe?

***

“Who the fuck are you?”

The random half-naked woman jumps at the sound of his voice and turns to meet him; her great arse apparently attached to a great face as her dark eyes widen and a blush forms across her cheeks.

Belatedly Merlin realizes that he is completely naked and probably giving the ‘random half-naked women’ a show, but he really can’t care when stands before him with her robe untied and all he can see is boobs.

Really, really great boobs.

***

Random half-naked woman stares at him mouth agape as she takes in his form and Merlin would laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, except well, boobs.

And it would be unfair to laugh at her when he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from the perfection that is her bosom. 

Random half-naked woman finally breaks the mexican stand-off of silence and awkward staring by letting out an adorable squeak and a long string of indecipherable words until Merlin breaks the incoherent rambling by heaving himself off the bed to place his hand across her mouth.

***

“Okay, I don’t know who you are,” Merlin says gently, as if approaching a startled rabbit, “but I need you stop and take a breath.”

Random half-naked women nods and Merlin can feel her calming herself under his touch.

“Alright, so let’s start this again,” Merlin grins as he takes a step back, “Hello stranger! My name is Merlin. Now, who the fuck are you?”

The woman smiles back at him in good humour as she breaks into a little giggle, and Merlin wishes he was less of a lecherous perv because that does wonderful things to her bosom and he’s back to staring at her boobs.

The random half-naked woman reaches her hand out to him breaking his trance as he accepts it into his own. His skin prickles as they move their hands in the universal gesture of greeting, and then she speaks.

***

“Hello, my name is Gwen,” she says and Merlin is shocked to find she speaks in soothing honeyed tones quite unlike the high strung mess she was before. “And I’m really sorry to disturb you but I was just grabbing some of my clothes.”

Merlin furrows his brow in confusion. 

“But why are your clothes in here?” 

Gwen smiles, a slow grin blooming across her features as amusement glints into her eyes.

“Didn’t Arthur tell you?” she asks gesturing to the slumbering body in the bed beside them; Merlin’s latest weekend shag, blanket hog and all round prat who apparently sleeps like the dead.

“Tell me what?” he questions as if feeling himself being led to the gallows. Her amusement a deep foreboding omen in the air.

“I’m his wife.”

***

Merlin finds three things out that morning while eating breakfast naked with Gwen:

1) Sleeping with someone who has an open marriage is not a bad thing.  
2) Gwen Pendragon is possibly the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet. Adorably awkward and yet so charming that Merlin is somewhat tempted to steal her for himself.  
3) Arthur Pendragon is a complete and utter clotpole.

***

It should feel awkward when Merlin kisses Gwen by the breakfast bar as they tidy up their dishes, but they’re both still naked and instead it feels almost inevitable, like two friends finding their way together, rather than passionate.

Merlin reveals in the familiarity of it all, laughing at Gwens’ giggles as he hoists her up onto the breakfast bar, groping her magnificent behind in the process. 

He bites back a grin as Gwen hooks one of her feet behind him to draw him closer between her legs, one of her hands sliding into his hair for a firm grip as they kiss while the other slides up and down his body in a soft caress.

Sex with Gwen is all fun and comfort and yet, inexplicably, everything feels ten times hotter when a drawling voice appears from the doorway.

“You’re not starting without me are you?,” Arthur asks in a tone of fake outrage.

Gwen winks at him before turning to Arthur.

“I don’t know, _husband_ , I was thinking of keeping this one all to myself.”

* * *

 **#6**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** No Major Warnings Apply  
 **Text Chosen:** (972): If I ever go to jail it will be because of you, I can feel it.

And I Thought The World Would Revolve

Merlin tore through the room like the worst sort of hurricane. The dishes rattled in the cupboards as he passed, magic roiling unchecked through to the ends of his fingertips. Merlin had no time to waste; he’d have to leave anything he couldn’t carry, his magic could no longer be trusted to-

“-Merlin!”

To lock the door behind him. 

Arthur stood flushed and gasping for air in the entryway. His eyes flickered towards the half-packed bag,  
then back to Merlin, who curled inwards under his gaze. 

“Merlin,” he said, “please. You have to-no, I’m, please listen to me: if you need a place to hide out, let me help you. If you’re leaving just, fuck, give me a week- no, three days. I’ll go with you. But if this is about what happened at the parade-“ 

Merlin laughed. It came out ragged, manic. 

“Arthur I’ve been made. Everyone saw-”

“-No that’s the thing, I was the only one close enough to get a good look, and I’d never turn you in.”

“Really, Arthur? Well, I guess I can stop now that I have your word, maybe you could talk to your father, ask the Commissioner to call off the manhunt for Emrys? Ask him nicely to repeal the Deadly Force authorization?”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was anguished, like every word out of Merlin’s mouth was stripping layers off him. The dishes continued to rattle menacingly, several plates escaping the cupboard to hurl themselves at the floor. A tense grinding noise told Merlin that the furniture was moving again, pulled towards where he and Arthur stood like magnets towards a pole. If he could see himself he suspected his eyes would be ringed gold. 

Merlin held up a hand when Arthur made to take a step closer. Blood roared in his ears. 

“Arthur, don’t. I can’t control it right now- it’s been haywire ever since you-“ 

“Since I kissed you?” 

Arthur’s hands were raised, palms outward, like he was being held at gun point. He took another step forward and the contents of the cupboard emptied themselves violently on the floor. 

“Merlin,” he said softly, “do you remember the first time we met?”

Merlin’s hands were shaking. He tried to hide them in his pockets but Arthur‘s eyes caught the movement.

“You called me an ambulance chaser and a filthy journo shitbag.”

Arthur choked out a laugh. 

“One out of two isn’t bad I guess. But I meant the part after that, where you pulled me out of a collapsing building and rode in the ambulance with me all the way to the hospital.”  
Merlin closed his eyes and lets Arthur draw his hands out of his pockets, lean into Merlin’s space until their foreheads were touching. 

“I don’t think you can hurt me,” he said simply. 

“Just wait,” Merlin said. His eyes were wet. “Maybe it’s not me; maybe it’s the next building I can’t pull you out of. Maybe it’s the next Supervillain with a death ray.” 

“I’m an EMT, I’m used to crazy.”

Arthur kissed the corner over Merlin’s eyes, the part that crinkled up when he laughed. He brushed his lips over the bridge of Merlin’s nose, the bow of his mouth. The touch made Merlin gasp and the electricity in the house short-circuit. 

“Is that going to happen every time I kiss you?” Arthur asked, bemused. 

“I…I don’t have much data to compare it to,” Merlin admits. “Arthur that’s not the point I have to go-”

Arthur kissed him full in the mouth. Merlin saw fireworks, literally and figuratively. The living room erupted into showers of sparks. He let his eyes flutter closed and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Arthur moved a hand to the small of his back, fingers brushing the sliver of skin where his shirt had ridden up. Each touch was like a forest fire manifest on the surface of Merlin’s skin. He gave in and let it devour him, let Arthur’s hands burn through him until he was shivering and gasping for oxygen. 

The armoire from the bedroom had migrated into the living room with the other furniture, and was the only thing propping Merlin upright as Arthur left a wet trail from his raw mouth to the hollow of his throat. 

Arthur body bracketed Merlin, swallowing the space between them. His fingers dragged lower and lower over Merlin’s waistband until Merlin could do nothing but moan and twist his fingers in Arthur’s shirt, scrabble at his shoulders for purchase.

He had the answer to every unasked question in the feverish tide of Arthur's touches: they’d fly together, they’d burn together. Intertwined they were Icarus triumphant in the face of one thousand suns.

* * *

 **#7**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** n/a  
 **Text Chosen:** (610): I don't know but the stairs are covered in apples.

He ignores it for as long as he can. Every so often, though, he catches a glint of gold or a flash of red out of the corner of his eye; he hears the heave of dragon wings beyond the wind. 

There's no room in this world for things like that, however, and Merlin puts them out of mind.

Then the apples appear.

*

The apples do not rot. They remain fresh and fragrant as if just picked, even after a couple days in the stairwell. 

*

Three days after their appearance, Merlin sits on the top step with one smooth, round green apple heavy in the palm of his hand. He catches the scent of apple blossoms and cold water just before the sweet-tart taste explodes over his tongue. 

He takes another bite and stands. "I'm ready now." 

When he glances over his shoulder after unlocking his door, the stairwell is clear once more, though the faint scent of apple blossom lingers. 

* 

Merlin expects to wake up to a world changed. Instead, he wakes to another drizzly morning, another bus commute, another Thursday lunch at the corner cafe. 

"Are you alright? You seem distracted." 

Merlin shrugs and glances up from his coffee and sandwiches. Arthur's frowning at him, and he looks a little worn out from working too many hours at the barristers' chambers. He smiles when Merlin touches his hand and Merlin sees it at last: the glint of gold beyond the blue of his eyes. 

"Oh," he says, and " _Arthur._ " 

*

"Arthur," he says again, breathing the name against Arthur's neck. "You knew." 

"Not really? Well. I think I've always known," he finally says and skims his hands down Merlin's chest. 

"You could've--"

"No. I couldn't take this from you." He smiles and rests his hands at Merlin's hips; for a moment he is the king Merlin laid to rest beneath a banner of red and gold. 

Then he is Arthur, only his Arthur, who spends too much time at work and who spends the rest of his time with his family and his boyfriend, who smiles broadly every Thursday just as he walks into the cafe, who stays every weekend at Merlin's tiny flat. 

Merlin tips his head back and closes his eyes; he can remember the first time Arthur kissed his shoulders and his chest, in this life and in another previous, and the memories make this time feel just like those firsts. 

He laughs when Arthur walks him backwards into the bed and pulls Arthur down on top of him, smiling into the kisses and breathing in the scent of warm skin. 

"You had magic then," Arthur murmurs, kissing his way down Merlin's body to his stomach where he nuzzles gently. "I think you still do."

"Maybe. It doesn't matter anymore." 

"It does to me."

The world is changed, though, and Merlin is glad for it; he's glad for this ordinary life and the magic that skirts its edges. 

And while there may no longer be room for magic in this ordinary world, Merlin feels it spark along his senses when Arthur touches him. He doesn't need the memories anymore, because his body and his breath remember for him. Merlin arches up into the touch of Arthur's mouth on his skin, twists into the kisses Arthur traces along the curve of his hipbone. 

"I feel like I can learn you all over again now that there is nothing forgotten between the two of us." 

Arthur does just that; he presses his lips to Merlin's body in as many places as he can, as if discovering for the first time the way that his mouth on the instep of Merlin's foot makes Merlin cry out or how he shudders from somewhere deep inside when Arthur murmurs against his ears. 

Merlin's already hard by the time Arthur touches his cock and when he says Arthur's name this time, his voice is low and ragged, as if he's just learning how to use it again. He comes so hard for Arthur that it feels like he's relearning himself, too, how his body works and how his breath comes in cries and gasps that he cannot control.

* * *

 **#8**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** slight dubcon, maybe?  
 **Text Chosen:** [this](http://33.media.tumblr.com/53f519a06ad6007691871b90b930d055/tumblr_metu8xHcI41rqh30po1_500.jpg) and [this](http://38.media.tumblr.com/60ab6f2292bfbf3ced59f148ed759557/tumblr_mq04sfndiH1rqh30po1_500.jpg)

“Come on, Arthur, nobody expects you to actually go through with this,” Merlin protests, Arthur’s hand clamped around his forearm the only reason he’s still following the prat. 

“I keep my promises,” Arthur grits out, throwing the door to his bathroom open and jabbing at the light switch. “Now sit.” He pushes Merlin to sit down on the closed toilet lid. 

“Gwaine won’t know if we lie to him about totally doing the thing,” Merlin says, looking everywhere but at Arthur who’s stripping right in front of him. 

“No,” Arthur replies, punctuating the word with a T-shirt tossed at Merlin’s head. 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” he asks, shrugging off the piece of clothing and averting his eyes quickly as Arthur’s bare arse comes into view. This is not going to end well.

“The bet was your idea.” Arthur steps into the shower, but doesn’t bother to close the door.

“That was before Gwaine came up with this.”

“Oh, Merlin, don’t tell me you’re scared to do it.”

“Scared? Me? They’re your family jewels, not mine,” Merlin replies, glaring at Arthur, bare butt or not. Right at that moment, Arthur turns and makes a good show of cleaning the said jewels. He looks up, scowling at Arthur whose grin only widens.

“I trust you to take good care of them,” he says in a low husky tone that does nothing to calm Merlin’s erratic heartbeat. 

“Fuck,” Merlin mutters, burying his face in his hands and thinking about making a run for it. But he knows he’d never live it down.

“Well?” Arthur says and geez, how the hell did Arthur manage to go from soaking wet to dry and spread out on a towel with all the stuff they would need right next to him in such a short amount of time? “I’m waiting,” Arthur teases, spreading his thighs a little bit wider, but this time Merlin can see a bit of uncertainty and tension under his act. 

“Should I tell Gwaine that you didn’t have balls for it?” The smirk is back and it gives Merlin the much needed push to kneel down between Arthur’s legs. 

“Start with this,” Arthur orders, handing him a bottle of jojoba oil. “It goes all over the…”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin interrupts him, pouring some oil into his palm, letting in warm. “It’s not like I’ve never done this to myself.”

“Really?” Arthur asks, his breath hitching slightly when Merlin starts massaging the oil into all the necessary areas. 

“So far, so good?” Merlin asks, wiping his hand on a paper towel to get rid of the excess oil. 

Arthur nods, his face flushed. Merlin leans over him, relishing in the barely audible shocked gasp when he “accidentally” brushes Arthur’s nipple with the side of his palm, reaching for the shaving cream.

“Only Gwaine would come up with such crazy punishment for losing,” Merlin mutters, spreading the cream all around Arthur’s groin. It’s obvious Arthur shaves regularly, the hair can’t be more than a week old. At least Merlin doesn’t have to deal with trimming it first. 

“Yeah,” comes Arthur’s reply, slightly breathy. He’s on his way to full erection, so it’s not a big surprise. 

“I see you’re making this easier for me,” Merlin says and smirks at Arthur who averts his eyes for the first time that evening. “We can stop,” Merlin says softly. It’s not meant to be a rape. 

“It’s fine. Go on,” Arthur’s words are clipped and his whole body tense, but he meets Merlin’s gaze again and that’s all Merlin needs to take hold of Arthur’s cock and start the shave.

“I still don’t understand why you thought you’d be able to down a pint of beer quicker than Gwaine,” he asks after a few minutes of silence filled only with Arthur’s heavy breathing. He adjusts his grip on Arthur’s cock to better reach another area still covered in a layer of cream. 

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” Arthur swears, making Merlin pull the razor away from his skin, worried he cut him. “Maybe I didn’t expect to win.”

He’s flushed with arousal, his lips slightly open, but it’s his expression that does it, the clear want in his eyes. Merlin puts the blade aside and leans over Arthur who stares up at him with growing hunger in his eyes.

“Does it mean you’ll do me afterwards?” he whispers against Arthur’s lips, giggling when Arthur pulls him down for a kiss. 

He’ll take that as a yes.

* * *

 **#9**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None.  
 **Text Chosen:** [_Drove by a guy getting road head, midday on O street. That could be us, but you won’t let me in your pants when you drive._](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-58320.html)

 

Arthur doesn’t like the MX androids: they lecture him too much about rules. Arthur used to play by the rules. Then he tried to reinforce them with the wrong people, and his half-sister disappeared.

*

They promise him the MRL-05 is different. An experiment in humanity, they say. 

He’ll be easy to dismiss with the slightest malfunction. Arthur prefers to work alone nowadays.

*

_Different_ is one way of putting it. Outrageous might be another. 

“Do you even know the penal code?” Arthur says, exasperated, when MRL-05 smiles politely as someone tries to sell him XF-7 tablets. He waggles his eyebrows and lets his gaze drop to Arthur’s crotch before answering, “I’m quite familiar with it.” 

“ _Oh my God_ ,” actually comes out of Arthur’s mouth. Then, “What are you, a modified sex robot?” 

“Pleasure android,” MRL-05 says, and has the gall to pout. Arthur was _joking_. “But they expanded my capabilities considerably.” 

Arthur promised to put up with him for a whole week. He adds it to a long list of life regrets.

*

In a week’s time, Merlin:  
\- fails to catch three different criminals during a chase;  
\- keeps trying to make small talk;  
\- follows Arthur around like a happy puppy off leash for the first time;  
\- turns out to be a perfect shot;  
\- wakes Arthur up at 6 am with a song (then catches the lamp Arthur throws at him);  
\- because he broke into Arthur’s flat and slept on his sofa instead of at the compound;  
\- somehow charms four different reluctant witnesses into helping (Arthur doesn’t ask);  
\- volunteers to help Arthur hack into the confidential information file of someone who may or may not have kidnapped Morgana;  
\- leans over in the middle of a car ride and licks Arthur’s neck.

There might be one or two other attempts at seduction. Or eight or nine. Arthur figures Merlin probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. A fault in his reprogramming. Arthur crushes the faint spike of lust (he doesn’t even remember the last time someone touched him, he’s only human, christ), and carries on with his job.

When Gwen asks him, at the end of the week, if there are any malfunctions, he sees what fear looks like on the face of an android. If this doesn’t work out, Merlin will be put in a stuffy hangar somewhere, defunct. 

Arthur takes a deep breath and resigns himself to having a partner. He wasn’t going to get out of it anyway.

*

Arthur takes to muttering a half-hearted “get out of my flat” every morning while Merlin puts together an inedible breakfast for him. He doesn’t comment when Merlin pretends to drink coffee like a real person.

He does, eventually, say _thank you_ when Merlin keeps digging up clues to Morgana’s whereabouts.

*

“Was that really necessary?” Merlin asks him. Again.

“They were a danger to traffic!” Arthur says, also again. “Besides, what if they hit a pothole? I was keeping that guy’s, uh, health in mind.”

Merlin snorts. Sometimes, he forgets he’s programmed to please, honestly. “All those long hours you spend driving. I could keep you entertained.” He’s grinning obnoxiously, but when he leans in close to murmur, “I’m really good, you know,” his warm breath tickles Arthur’s neck. That morning, he woke up to Merlin in his bed. Arthur doesn’t know why he didn’t throw the lamp. 

Merlin’s hand is very warm on his thigh. 

“Behaviour, Merlin.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Merlin says, earnest. “I don’t like sleeping alone. I like sleeping with you, though.”

“I’m not going to let go of you if you don’t do this.”

“I know,” Merlin says, and licks the side of his neck again. Arthur feels a rush of adrenaline as Merlin’s hand slips higher and he tries to focus on the road. Merlin looks so painfully hopeful.

Oh, honestly, fuck the rules (well, sometimes).

*

Arthur’s cock looks weirdly obscene, naked in their work car; he expects Merlin to pull him off, but Merlin gives him a cheeky smile and slides down. Arthur is not prepared for Merlin’s mouth, hot and wet and as perfect as he promised, or for the pleased sounds Merlin makes. He doesn’t hit a pothole, but nearly rear-ends a car when he comes. Merlin looks unbearably smug.

*

Arthur wakes up with Merlin wrapped around him. “Love you,” Merlin murmurs against his neck, the same way he says “Good morning”. 

_Programmed to please_ , Arthur reminds himself, but he kisses Merlin’s fingers just the same.

* * *

 **#10**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Lancelot  
 **Warning(s):** semi-public sex  
 **Text Chosen:** (215): i was on the fire escape while he ate me out for a while before i realized he had shut the door behind us and locked us out and i proceeded to climb down the stairs and climb back into the party through the window.  
(484): i can only hope to be on your level one day.

 

Gwen quite likes being right, especially when Morgana is so utterly wrong. “He’s the most boring person in the universe, Gwen, I don’t think he’s done a single exciting thing in his life,” was Morgana’s assessment of Lancelot. Gwen had realised everyone at Morgana and Lancelot’s office thought the same, but she’d been sure that there’s way more to him than that. 

Even if she doesn’t even know him. She’s just been lusting from afar, because Lancelot’s gorgeous with amazing eyes and arms that makes her want to cuddle in bed forever. And fingers that she wants buried in her cunt. 

So it’s really pretty splendid to be right, she thinks, as she twists her fingers into his hair and tugs, her legs spreading wider. The stairs of the fire escape are cold against her thighs, digging into the flesh. Lancelot has her knickers pulled to the side and his head between her legs. 

Inside, Gwaine’s flat is full of people and the sounds of loud chatter and music are audible even though Lancelot had shut the door behind them. The sounds don’t quite drown out her moans, and she peers up at the open bedroom window of Gwaine’s upstairs neighbour. She bites her lip and forces herself to stay quiet. 

Lancelot’s tongue circles her clit, the sudden contact making her leg twitch. He reaches out and runs his hand along her leg, looking up at her with those stupidly gorgeous eyes. His mouth is hot and perfect on her, his tongue sending jolts of pleasure that buzz across her skin.

He mutters something against her and the vibration makes a moan slip out, her hand tightening in his hair. 

“I’m sure he fucks with the light off,” Morgana had said, and the memory of it makes Gwen grin. 

She moves her hips against him, just slightly, wondering if he’ll mind. Her eyes widen when he groans and she does it again, pushing up into his tongue. Her pulse runs fast and uncontrolled as his hands grip at her hips, a hungry moan vibrating against her clit. 

“Shit,” she says, her free hand gripping at the metal of the fire escape. 

A particularly loud round of laughter comes from Gwaine’s flat and for a moment she freezes, reminded of where they are. But then Lancelot fucks his tongue into her cunt and she moans, deep and long, throwing her head back. Her hair slides from her shoulder and she grinds up against his mouth. 

Her fingers twist harder in his hair when she comes, her thighs tightening around his head. She arches upwards, every muscle in her body relaxing at the release of tension. She sinks back, graceless and spent. 

He looks up at her then, wiping his mouth at the back of his wrist. It’s glistening and she thinks it might be the best thing she’s ever seen. Reaching up, she presses the back of her dress’ sleeve to the corner of his lips. He smiles at her, so genuine and pleased that her heart flips. 

She takes his hand and stands, puts her hand at the back of his head and kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue. She grins against his lips when he pushes her back against the door, his body heavy and warm on her. 

“Morgana might be looking,” she says. “Meet me in the bathroom in 10?”

He nods and she turns to open the door, only to find it stuck. They stare at each other, eyes wide. 

“Maybe we can climb down through his bedroom window,” Lancelot says, and seems to measure the distance. “Or I could call. I don’t want you to break your neck.”

She looks over at the window that goes to Gwaine’s window, only a small step from the fire escape. “We’ll climb.” 

But since the door’s stuck, they might as well make the best of it. 

She sinks to her knees and presses her mouth to the hard outline of his dick.

* * *

 **#11**  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warnings:** \--  
 **Text Chosen:** [(609): We almost died tonight..we almost die every night. but tonight was the closest by far](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-22876.html)

“We almost died tonight,” Merlin says, voice low and seething in the chill quiet of the vacant courtyard.

Arthur is breathless and giddy, still letting out little hiccoughs of laughter, alive with the high of a near brush with death. He claps Merlin on the shoulder, and Merlin is stiff under his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Arthur says, reaching for Merlin’s wrist, trying to keep him from storming off to Gaius’s chambers in a dramatic huff. Merlin stops walking and glances over his shoulder at Arthur, and the moment is still enough that Arthur can feel Merlin’s heart beating through the soft, thin skin at his wrist. But whatever Merlin sees on Arthur’s face seems to set him off again. He wrenches his arm away and stomps off towards the castle. Arthur jogs to catch up, a sharp pain in his knee reminding him of the blow he’d taken at the hands of one of Cenred’s men.

“Listen, I didn’t ask you to come,” Arthur says. “In fact, you just sort of showed up, and I’m not really even sure how you knew where I was, but I was perfectly—”

Merlin is considerably stronger than he looks. Arthur’s back cracks into the stone banister lining the steps up to the castle, Merlin’s hands squeezing at his shoulders just outside his neck, as though it’s taking all his effort not to strangle him.

“We almost died!” Merlin shouts, and the force of his words makes Arthur feel like he’s just been caught with his hand in his breeches, ashamed and a little bit scared.

“Merlin, it was—”

“You’re not getting it,” Merlin says, and one hand curls behind Arthur’s neck, fingers digging into his hair, wrenching his head back so Arthur has to squint down to see Merlin. It hurts to breathe like this, his throat pulled too tight, but he doesn’t push Merlin away. He’s too curious about this, too fascinated by what Merlin will do, what he could possibly hope to accomplish.

“What am I not getting?” Arthur grits out. “Come on; tell me. You’re risking charges of treason for this little outburst, so get on with it.”

Merlin shakes his head from side to side and leans in, his whole body draped over Arthur’s, his face so close to Arthur’s that Arthur can feel the warmth of Merlin’s shallow breathing.

“You almost died,” Merlin says, and it sounds like a gasp, a whispered confession that means more than it means. “If I hadn’t been there—”

“You were,” Arthur says, one hand finding Merlin’s elbow. The moment is quiet and tense and distinctly uncomfortable.

It’s Merlin who makes the first move, and Arthur wouldn’t have predicted that, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Merlin’s lips are warm and strong, and Arthur wets them with his tongue, slips inside. Merlin’s hand is down the front of Arthur’s trousers before he’s even hard, and that is so completely _like_ Merlin, to assert himself where he isn’t welcome, but _god_ , how Arthur welcomes him now, the delicious, satisfying weight of him.

The banister still juts into Arthur’s back, and Merlin’s fingers are still tight in his hair, and Merlin’s mouth leaves wet trails down Arthur’s throat that sting in the cold night air.

Merlin’s hips rock against Arthur’s thigh, slowly, deliberately, and Arthur realises that Merlin is in complete control, that this isn’t just some weird moment of anger-fuelled passion.

“Why—” Arthur starts asking, but he doesn’t know what the question is, really, only that he doesn’t understand why Merlin feels so good against him, despite the cold, despite the pain in his back, despite who he is, and who Merlin is, and how vulnerable they both are in this moment.

But Merlin doesn’t need the whole question. He just answers, simple and clear and earnest against Arthur’s chin, “You know why.”

And Arthur does know. And when Merlin brings him off, all of Arthur’s discomfort and doubt go quiet, and one truth asserts itself in him: he is happy to be alive.

* * *

 **#12**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwaine/Morgana  
 **Warning(s)/Note(s):** The morning after a satisfying drunken hookup, casual sex, and pegging.  
 **Text Chosen:** [Is "head down, ass up" an appropriate way to say good morning?](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-55718.html)

The Sunday sunrise was warm on his face and surprisingly easy on the eyes as Gwaine stirred, burrowing deeper into the pillows as he slowly came to. The sheets had far too high a thread count to be his but the situation was nothing new to him so no reason to kick up a fuss. He stretched again and groaned as his cock, hot and hard against his stomach, rose to greet the day with him.

“Head down, ass up sweetheart,” a woman’s sultry voice urged close to his ear. Fingers slid feather light down his spine in a long, coaxing caress. Teasing a long drawn out shiver from his still buzzed and sleep heavy body.

It took him about a minute to piece together the events from last night. The party at the Pendragon lake house, the banter, and then the fiercely competitive game of tequila chess he played against Arthur’s harpy sister. His frighteningly intelligent, gorgeous harpy sister with the hair trigger temper and utterly distracting cleavage. 

She wiped the floor with him and then fucked him sideways. Twice. 

Just the memory of it had him sliding a knee upwards in unspoken acquiescence because why the fuck not? He was still stretched and up for an encore performance.

The lube was soothingly slick and warm against the well fucked pucker of his ass as her slender fingers gently worked him open. His cock twitched in approval at her deft touch and he fought the urge to just start hunching into the bedding until it was filthy with his satisfaction. Then her fingers found and worked his hot spot in soft, insistent circles and he was up as asked. Face buried deep in rose scented pillows, knees braced, and spread to support the arch of his back.

“ _Hmmm_ there we go. Just perfect,” Morgana murmured contentedly and firmly grasped his hips to slowly pull him back and onto the soft head of one of her toys. Once he was finally seated on that last greedy inch, toy snug against his prostate, there was a tell-tale click and then the thick insistent length of her toy came thrumming to life. 

“Fuck!”

Drowsiness fled as he shivered, flexed, and fought to hold perfectly still. Already almost desperate to come as the pressure built in relentlessly waves that beat against the flimsy strength of his morning self control. Waves that built faster and harder until his chest heaved with each gasping breath, prick leaking against the pale peach of the bedspread. 

Morgana’s hands slid, still gentle, over his skin and into his hair to grip and pull. Urged him further onto her lap to writhe against the soft weight of her body. “Touch yourself,” she demanded and he scrambled to obey, her breath hot against his ear. Her other hand moved to cup his throat and Morgana held him like that, body straining not to fall back against the steady roll of her hips while his cock spit and dribbled between the desperate pumping of his fists.

Distantly Gwaine felt as she began to shiver behind him, gasping as whatever silicone wonder she was using worked them both up, up, and over the edge. Until they were both left kitten weak and in Morgana's case, snarling. Her mouth latched to the meat of his shoulder to muffle a short scream of release.

They fell over together, sideways and panting. 

“Well God damn and good morning to you too beautiful,” Gwaine choked out. Eyes dark and dilated as she ripped the toys’ straps off her hips and thighs, squirming to fuck herself open with another nearby toy to limp satiation. 

“Lovely way to start the day,” he added with a wink and besotted slur.

* * *

 **#13**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** No AO3 warnings apply; drinking/mentions of drug use  
 **Text Chosen:** Primary: (708) "He was rambling about life and dignity and happiness. but all i kept thinking was PENIS. YOU HAVE A PENIS. I CAN SHOW YOU WHERE TO PUT THAT PENIS." With a feelings-inspiring side of: (630) "I don't know what kind of drugs you were on last night but you kept trying to highlight my face because you said I was important."

 

Arthur's uncertain at first. Something about the kid's eyes, the slightly manic smile, is worrisome. But he's on holiday. He's got top-shelf rum in his veins, fine white sand between his toes, and an itch that desperately wants scratching.

He – Merlin – speaks a version of English, handy as Arthur's after something more than a back alley fuck, plus he's pretty. Pretty and tall and staring with the kind of raw hunger most men try to cover up for pride's sake, even at a meat market like this.

Arthur takes him back to the hotel, studies him under the lobby lights and in the glass-walled lift that shoots them up, higher than the foothills and the fort across the bay. He's still pretty, but not as young as Arthur thought. 

There is definitely something queer about his eyes.

They take off their shirts, take a bottle out on the balcony to catch the breeze and watch the last of the day's colours fade and bruise into night. Merlin's got wiry limbs, thick dark hair and the sweetest pink nipples Arthur has ever seen. His fingers are long, his nails tidy, his faded blue shorts like a second skin. 

He's got everything that Arthur needs, so he doesn’t know why he's hesitating, watching Merlin's mouth and listening to his blather instead of stripping off and grabbing the railing, legs spread. 

It's full dark now, a fat copper moon hanging out over the bay. Arthur fancies the idea of the warm breeze on his balls, watching that moon sail up and down as Merlin takes him hard from behind. Normally he'd be blunt about it, have no problem saying, "Shut up, get your kit off and get over here."

Instead, Merlin's sprawled on the lounger, rambling about life and dignity and happiness, looking at Arthur like he's hung that damn moon himself; instead, all Arthur can do is nurse the rum, staring, thinking, _Cock. You have a marvellous cock. Why aren’t I showing you where to put it?_

He wonders if he's made a mistake with this one. He wonders if the lounger would take their combined weight, if Merlin would mind if Arthur just reached over and slid his cock out of his shorts, stiffened it up and spit on it, then climbed aboard. It's almost unbearable to be this close and not be touching. 

He _could_ let his hand linger when passing the bottle, but with Arthur it's all or nothing. He only lets himself have it when it's down to skin on skin, nothing left to hide. He doesn't even like kissing them until he's got a fat cockhead nudging in through that first ring. He likes soothing the burn of it by suckling at their mouths, swallowing down whatever noises they make. 

Merlin's going to swear when he first feels how tight Arthur is, how well he moves, that the muscles aren't just for show. Arthur can tell.

Except… 

_Shit._ Merlin's ranting now, all worked up about time and bloody _destiny_ , gesticulating with the empty bottle. His eyes are wide and bright. It's drugs, has to be, on top of all the booze, and he may be near-perfect but Arthur's not into that kind of hook-up. 

He wants to be seen, remembered.

"Hey," he says roughly, pushing up from his chair, spell broken, need turning sour in his gut. "Come on. That's enough. I think you've had your fun, my friend."

He lets Merlin shout, lets him ugly cry and pound a fist against his chest. Then he pries the bottle from lax fingers, coaxes him back inside. He tells him to stay and sleep it off, cursing himself for a fool.

He means on the sofa, of course, but there's something about the way Merlin clings, whispering, "Arthur, please…" as if there's a whole sentence in there, a whole heartbroken story, and reaches for his face.

"Just…let me hold you."

Arthur blinks. Then he decides to break all his rules and kisses Merlin anyway. 

_He's uncertain at first. Something about the boy's eyes, the slightly manic smile, is worrisome. But Arthur's the prince. He's got royal blood in his veins, a whole glorious life ahead of him, and an itch that desperately wants scratching._

* * *

**#14**  
 **Pairing(s):** Elena/Mithian  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** This morning i put band aids over my nipples bc i was too lazy to put on a bra. Think I've reached a new low.

“Why did you do this, again?”

“It seemed like a really good idea at the time?”

Elena was sitting on the long row of bathroom sinks at her work, legs open wide and floral skirt pushed up to her hips. Her knees twitched with the need to close in around the pretty, petite frame of her coworker, Mithian, who was inspecting Elena's bare breasts with thin, gentle fingers. Elena could feel how close their bodies were, how one little shift could bring them flush together, and it was _severely_ distracting. She could just imagine Mith's curious fingers dipping underneath her bunched up skirt, flittering over her plush thighs, gently cupping her warm cotton panties, and rubbing over Elena's swollen clit - soft and careful but so fast, desperate, and needing - until she came right there, practically in public, for anyone to see. 

“Seriously, Elena. We'll have to go slow.”

Mith dragged one thin finger over the edge of the bandaid, and Elena barely held back a small gasp.

This was, as things often were, all Elena's fault. She was the queen of bad ideas and this one had been the worst that year so far. Her bras had all been torn apart by her new puppy (not-so-fondly named Briller, much to the confusion of her friends), so when she realized her braless nipples would stick out proudly at work that morning, she had improvised and put bandaids over them instead. The result was that Elena was extremely uncomfortable the entire day and too much of a baby to take them off herself. 

Mithian, the gorgeous saint that she was, had agreed to pull them off for her.

Elena didn't regret asking her at all.

“Okay,” Elena breathed. She gripped the faux-marble countertop and bit her lip. “Do it.”

Mithian hooked one perfectly manicured nail under the edge of the bandaid on Elena's left breast. The smooth, hard nail easily folded up the edge of the adhesive and slowly started to pull it down, sending prickling shocks throughout Elena's sensitive nipple - shocks that went straight down her body and caused her thighs to tighten around Mithian's slim hips. 

She cried out as the bandage was pulled slowly – so slowly – over her soft, reddened skin, and she dipped her head so that her forehead just barely grazed over Mith's. She could hear Mithian's own shallow, careful breaths and feel the cool of her collected, professional skin as the bandage was pulled over and across. It made Elena braver.

The bandaid came off with a crinkling snap. Mithian pressed against Elena's bowed head comfortingly.

“All done with that one,” she said softly.

Elena huffed a breathless laugh. “Kiss it and make it better?” 

She meant it as a joke, she really did, but Mithian still pressed her perfect small lips against the flushed red of Elena's nipple, taking just the peak in her mouth and flicking over it with her hot, wet tongue before letting it go.

Elena's mouth dropped open and her eyes slid shut. Mithian slid one hand up her thigh, just like she imagined, so soft and so careful, to pull her hips closer to the edge. 

The air was cold against where Mithian's tongue had just been.

“And now the other,” Mithian said. A smooth, hard nail outlined Elena's right breast. There was a smirk on the edge of Mithian's lips.

This was the best idea Elena ever had.

* * *

 **#15**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Percival (background Merlin/Arthur and theoretical future Merlin/Arthur/Percival)  
 **Warning(s):** Skeevy bathroom hookup? Inexperienced!Percival.  
 **Text Chosen:** (334): God, i just love slightly insecure guys with hearts of gold and giant penises.

'Oh my god, you feel amazing,' groans Percival, big soft Labrador-puppy eyes all blown black and adorable, unbelievably sweet, as he pushes in. Merlin spreads his knees wider and braces against the skeevy wall and Percival just keeps making these little helpless noises into Merlin's skin, the nape of his neck, as he bottoms out, and it cranks Merlin's engine like crazy, turning a big strong guy like this into a sweaty, incoherent mess already. They've barely got started, to Merlin's way of thinking, and already he's split incredibly wide, working himself on this beautiful, amazing dick, so big he could barely get his mouth all the way down when he tried just a moment ago, and this guy, this cute-as-hell man-mountain, is making him feel wanton and predatory. 

Merlin shoves back, trying to get Percival to really give it to him, and the bathroom stall door starts creaking. Merlin does. Not. Care. Hell, the entire building could cave in and he wouldn't care. He has bigger (way bigger) things on his mind right now. 'Fuck, yes, just like that,' he groans, arching up. Percival bites him softly and he pounds against the wall with his fist. 'Unnnh, Jesus, fucking yes, get in, c'mon, _c'mon_ -'

'Shut up, please shut up,' Percival groans. 'I can't - I'll -' He's shaking and the sinews in his arms, bracketing Merlin, are taut and ropy. 'Jesus, fuck, please -'

Merlin forces himself to slow down instead of fucking back harder and harder. 'S'okay,' he pants, and now he's not moving he can feel Percival shivering behind him, like this is all too much for him. 'Hey, I've got an idea,' he says, because a reaction this fucking beautiful he wants to _see_. He pulls free and Percival whimpers, until Merlin turns and kind of shoves him back to sit on the closed lid of the toilet - typical glamorous bathroom hook-up - and climbs back on like he's mounting a bloody stud stallion. 

'Ohmygod,' says Percival in a rush, grabbing for the edge of the condom to make sure it's still in place, like a gentleman, and Merlin can't help kissing him, to find out if he's that sweet all the way down the line. He lifts his hips a little and sinks, rocking down onto that ginormous fucking cock, and Percival makes those tiny, turned-on noises into his mouth like he doesn't even know what he's doing, and Merlin all of a sudden has a question he didn't think to ask before, when he was admiring the half-ton of muscle leaning on the bar.  
'This isn't your first time, is it?' he demands, tilting Percival's chin up to look him in the eye, and nearly bites through his lip from sheer, blood-rushing lust when the other man pulls away and won't meet his eye and _blushes_ like a bloody schoolgirl. 'Holy fuck,' Merlin breathes, and his hips are moving of their own accord now, riding Percival for all he's worth, the new angle putting constant, perfect pressure on Merlin's insides. 'Holy _fuck_.'

'Not _first_ -first time,' Percival manages, spreading his huge hands around Merlin's hips and thrusting up like he can't help himself. 'I mean, girls ...'

'But not men,' Merlin finishes for him. 'I'm your first.' It's ridiculous how much that turns him on.

'Am I doing okay?' Percival asks, rocking Merlin into him, using that strength now, and oh yes, he's doing okay. More than okay.

But he looks unsure. And we can't have that. 'God, yes,' Merlin breathes, draping his arms over Percival's bull-like shoulders. 'Yes, fuck. You're a natural. I could do this all night, I really could -' but he can feel himself starting to peak and he'd bet Percival's nearly there too, sweating and fucking like a champ now, just right, just perfect, hitting all the right spots and Merlin tells him so, 'god, yes, c'mon, harder, harder, _harder_ -' and Percival's eyes almost roll up in his head and at the feel of him jerking and coming inside the condom Merlin lets go too, half triumph and half fire and 100% utterly satisfied with his Saturday night, and already half-composing the come-addled text he's gonna send Arthur.

(When he does, with a pic, the response is almost instantaneous.

_holy fuck. room 4 a 3rd???)_

* * *

**#16**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (843): I think my penis ruined a perfectly good friendship. 

 

_Arthur thrust into him, biting at Merlin’s shoulder, sweat slicking their skin as they rocked together. Merlin moaned pressing back against him and Arthur laughed against his ear, pressing a kiss to his throat._

_“Gods, I’ve wanted this for so long.” Merlin breathed turning to kiss him._

_Arthur reached down to palm Merlin’s cock, stroking it and smiling against his lips “So have I.” He swore thrusting into him again._

~~~

“What happened?” Morgana demanded looking worried.

Arthur ignored her, setting his bag down on the bed in her guest room. His lips were pulled tight and he felt sick.

“You’ve lived together for almost five years Arthur.” She followed him into the front room, Arthur ignored the sad looks Gwen was giving him as he reached for a beer in the fridge. “You’re Arthur and Merlin, you’re best friends!” 

“I know.” He twisted the cap off and took a pull, closing his eyes for a moment.

He had fucked up.

~~~

Arthur run a wet cloth against Merlin’s skin, cleaning up the mess they had made and Merlin trailed a hand across his arm, smiling softly. Arthur balled up the rag and threw it across the room, kissing away the wrinkle in Merlin’s nose as he landed in a heap on the floor.

“You’re going to clean that up,” Merlin muttered before kissing Arthur back. Arthur cradled him in his arms and Merlin’s hands tightened around his waist “I’m serious, you’re not going to make my room look like the disaster that yours is.”

“My room isn’t a disaster.” Arthur argued back moving his lips to Merlin’s neck and pulling the blanket up around them. “It’s a little out of sorts.” He conceded.

Merlin laughed snuggling closer and they settled down together to sleep.

~~~

“What happened?” Gwen asked him softly, sitting beside him on the couch. Morgana had left to get some food and Arthur had known it was coming. Morgana was family, she pushed and she demanded and Arthur rarely gave in on the sheer principle of it being Morgana.

Gwen had been a friend of his even longer than Merlin has, she has been the one to introduce them.

“We had sex.” Arthur admitted, setting the beer down on the table and staring at the horrible painting on the wall, no doubt something Morgana has picked out. He couldn’t look Gwen in the eyes.

“That should be a good thing shouldn’t it,” she sounded confused and he turned to see the furrow in her brows “you’ve loved each other for years, everyone could see it.” She said with a smile.

Arthur didn’t think he could feel lower but at that he did “Well someone should have told me that.”

~~~

Arthur found his pants half buried under the bed and pulled them on, grabbing his shirt from where it was under Merlin’s ridiculous scarf on the floor. Merlin shifted on the bed, turning to face him and Arthur passed, dread filling him as he watched him settle back down into sleep.

Why had he done that? They’d been friends for years, they were roommates. Arthur couldn’t screw that up.

He watched Merlin for a second longer before pulled on his shirt and stumbling out of his room, he needed to get a bag and get out of there.

~~~

Morgana didn’t come back to the flat alone. She walked past Arthur, pizza balanced in one hand and Merlin walked in behind her. Gwen stood and followed Morgana to their room, leaving Arthur and Merlin alone.

Arthur didn’t even bother to glare at their door as they closed it, too busy starting at Merlin’s tousled hair and tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly “I freaked out.”

“That’s obvious,” Merlin looked awkward standing there and Arthur hated that. He shouldn’t have left, he wanted this.

So he made a decision, hating the uncertainty in Merlin’s eyes he pulled him into a kiss, whispering against his lips “I won’t leave again.”

* * *

 **#17**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine  
 **Warning(s):** semi-public  
 **Text Chosen:** And then i had a penis in each hand. It was magical.

 

“Yes, Gwen, I promise to be careful. No, I won’t drive home,” Merlin rolled his eyes, but felt warmth in his chest at her concern.

“Goodnight, Mum!” He teased after a few more minutes of her fretting. Shaking his head fondly, Merlin entered the bar he’d been standing outside of. 

Merlin ordered a drink and turned to view the dance floor behind him. There was a sea of bodies writhing against each other, more and more fitting in as they arrived.

Merlin locked eyes on a man whose face was turned away, but whose sensual movements and sculpted muscles were hard to ignore. Merlin rose to his feet, abandoning his drink, and approached the mob, letting the beat fill his head and thrum through his chest. As he approached Merlin admired the shirtless guy’s rippling muscles and dark hair, sparing a moment to thank the universe that ‘no shoes, no shirt, no service’ didn’t apply here. Merlin was hoping to provide a little ‘service’ later, himself.

Pushing through the last few people, he slid a hand up the guy’s muscled back to rest on his shoulder, lightly tugging to turn him around. To Merlin’s great disappointment, an equally attractive blond man was plastered against the man’s chest. The dark headed man had his hands wrapped around the blonde’s hips so there wasn’t an inch between them. As Merlin prepared an apology, already beginning to take a step backward, the blonde’s hand shot out, firmly grasping Merlin’s waist.

Both men sized Merlin up before sharing a look. Merlin felt slightly uncomfortable, and had no idea what the couple were thinking. The men made space between themselves and tugged Merlin in. The blonde ground his hips against Merlin’s front, the brunette pressing hard against his ass. Merlin inhaled sharply in surprise, then let his breath out in a low moan. The blonde leaned his head back against Merlin’s shoulder, saying, “I’m Arthur, that’s Gwaine. We’re interested in a third.” His hot breath fanned against Merlin’s ear, eliciting a full-body shiver.  
Merlin didn’t even have to think about it. “Okay,” he said, voice breathy from arousal. Arthur’s hips fit so perfectly against him, Merlin could feel himself getting harder by the second. He pressed back into Gwaine, and raised a hand to rest on the other’s neck. They moved together, and Merlin couldn’t hear anything but the beat urging him on, and the blood pounding in his ears. The flashing lights and perfumed air overwhelmed him until he closed his eyes and blocked out everything but the movements against his body. Merlin felt a warm mouth along his throat and groaned, moving sensually with the hips pressed against his, concentrating on where he could feel Gwaine’s arousal pressed against him. Gwaine sucked and bit at the skin along his neck, Merlin leaning into him. 

They were pulled apart by Arthur, who had grabbed each of their wrists and was pulling them toward the bathroom. There was a guy at the sinks, but they didn’t meet his eyes as they hurried past, almost tripping over each other into the biggest stall. 

Hands were immediately at his belt, Merlin didn’t know whose. His button and fly were quickly taken care of, and before he could blink there was a mouth on his cock, the wet heat enveloped Merlin, leaving him gasping. He looked down at blue eyes and blond hair as Arthur took him to the root with one practiced movement. Gwaine claimed his lips, licking in and kissing Merlin sloppy and wet, raising a hand to roll Merlin’s nipples under his shirt. Merlin moved his hips in little jerking motions, and when Arthur started humming he came embarrassingly quickly. 

Merlin pulled Arthur up, and shoved him against the wall next to Gwaine, who already had his pants undone. Merlin jerked Arthur’s pants open, and he closed his hands around them. He pumped up and down, caressing underneath the heads, moving his hands along their shafts to find the most sensitive places. Merlin flicked his thumb up to tease Gwaine’s slit, causing the bigger man to lean on Arthur for support. 

“Kiss,” Merlin ordered, Arthur and Gwaine complying immediately. Merlin picked up his pace, twisting his hand on every upward stroke, Arthur coming first, then dragging Merlin to his knees so they could taste Gwaine together.  
* * *  
Merlin: Had a great night ;) on the way home so stop worrying! I met these guys…  
Gwen: And?!?!  
Merlin: And then i had a penis in each hand. It was magical.

* * *

 **#18**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:**[Can I come over? I respect you but I want disrespectful things to happen.](http://textsfromrandomfandom.tumblr.com/post/37995663454)

** As The Sun Sets **

Merlin hummed as he placed Arthur’s armor to the side, starting to ready himself for bed.

It had been a long day. Firstly he’d had to force himself from the warm comfort of his bed, and then it was off to the kitchens to fetch Arthur’s breakfast. The man was a boar, as he usually was in the morning, but the prince had gotten better as he was readied for training. 

Gods, training. Merlin had been dragged into it yet again. He didn’t mind the occasional fetching of swords or targets, but being used for sparring? He should have known Percival’s sweet demeanor hid a strong sword arm. Though, really, Merlin was more distracted by the other man’s physique rather than his potential strength.

But Percival wasn’t Arthur. He wasn’t a dollophead that thought Merlin was a lazy sod but actually trusted him behind closed doors. He wasn’t a prat who would push him into the mud only to pick him up and dust him off with a smile. And he wasn’t the prince who would lay down his life for his men or his kingdom.

Merlin sighed, slipping out of his clothes and into his long nightshirt. It was much too hot to wear his usual sleep pants, and the thin cotton felt good against his skin. He washed up quickly in his small basin, wetting his face and drying himself of any sweat that had gathered throughout the day. Merlin was just about to slide into bed when he heard a knock at his chamber door.

That was strange. Gaius would be in the lower town until the next morning and Merlin couldn’t think of anyone who would come knocking at this hour, especially at his little door instead of the main one that led first into Gaius’ own chambers. His brow furrowed as he straightened up again, padding over to the door and pulling it open with a look of almost hesitant curiosity.

Merlin had half expected Gwaine to be standing there with a jug of ale, wanting a drinking partner. He hadn’t expected Prince Arthur. But there he was, hair ruffled and dressed roughly in the same shirt he’d been wearing that day and his sleep pants. Almost like he’d settled into bed before shooting out of it straight after.

“Arthur?” Merlin said, unable to hide his surprise. “What are you doing down here? Are you even wearing boots?”

“Merlin.” Arthur said quickly, interrupting him as he dragged a hand through blonde hair. Ah, that explains the ruffling. “I just wanted you to know that I…I respect you, and…Look, can I come in?” He asked, looking harried. 

Merlin raised an eyebrow in confusion but nodded, opening his door wider and stepping aside. Arthur looked grateful as he shut the door behind him, but at the same time he had a strange twitchiness about him.

“Arthur, I was just going to bed, couldn’t this wait until –“

Merlin had been interrupted again, but this time it was not by Arthur’s words. It was by his lips. 

The kiss was over as quickly as it had started, Arthur having stepped back with a strange look on his face, his hand coming up to touch lightly at his lips. “I’m sorry.” The prince murmured, as if the kiss had stolen his breath. “I had to know.”

“Know what?” Merlin whispered, still half in shock of what had just occurred. 

“If this is what made me think disrespectful thoughts about someone I respect.”

“You said you respected me.” Merlin said, flashing back to Arthur’s first words at the door.

“Yes.”

“So, you’ve been thinking about…me?”

Arthur’s cheeks flushed pink. “It would seem so.”

Merlin only nodded, face blank as he gestured towards the bed. Arthur sank down onto it with an apprehensive expression; unable to judge what Merlin was thinking. Luckily for him, Merlin had already decided what was going to happen. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Merlin straddled Arthur’s lap, fiddling with the ties of his trousers as he pushed his nightshirt up, exposing both of their cocks to the warm summer’s air. Arthur hardly had time to gasp before Merlin’s slender fingers encased them, stroking them together.

“I’ve been waiting for you, you know.” Merlin found himself saying, voice thick with lust and unbridled affection.

“Good to know.” Arthur gritted out, groaning as he was coaxed to full hardness. “How about we make up for lost time then?”

The night had only just begun.

* * *

 **#19**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Gwaine  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** im stripping for him via video chat, but the sound is turned off cause his students are taking a test

 

Merlin blinked when he saw a message from Gwaine pop up on his Skype, signalling a video call. Merlin frowned but accepted it, grateful he'd muted the laptop at the start of the class.

He looked around the room. All his students were bent over their papers, no sign that they were disturbed by Merlin tapping on his keyboard without really looking at Gwaine on the screen.

_I'm in a class! Everything ok?_

Merlin glanced down and saw Gwaine talking to him.

_Got the sound off. Class is taking a test_

Gwaine read the message then nodded. He reached and started to type. 

_bored, thought I'd say hello. how long they got left?_

_About 30 mins, why?_

_bored. Horny._

_Gwaine_

Merlin watched with a mix of curiosity and growing horror. Gwaine bored could either be fun and hilarious or a mess of bad ideas. Merlin had a feeling this was leaning towards the latter. 

Gwaine started by unbuttoning one cuff, then the other. 

_Gwaine. Seriously._

Gwaine rolled his eyes and leant forward.

_shut up and enjoy the show. the kids will never know. youll just have to keep quiet._

Goddamn him, Merlin thought. Gwaine must've seen Merlin's thoughts on his face, because he grinned triumphently. 

_I hate you_

_you can punish me later_

Merlin shifted and looked up at his students, who were still working diligently. When he looked back Gwaine had undone the other cuff and was starting on the buttons of his shirt. 

Merlin rested his chin on his hand, one hand on the keyboard, as if he were reading something. Not watching a striptease. God, he hoped the light from the screen meant that no one could see his blush. 

Gwaine was topless now and Merlin swallowed. Gwaine was gorgeous in a way Merlin hadn't really experienced before. Gwen called it schluballybub – that weird feeling when you see someone you love. It was ridiculous.

_do you mind? I'm doing my best here and youre drifting_

_Sorry, sorry_ Merlin typed _Please, carry on_.

Gwaine raised an eyebrow and slipped his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall behind him. Gwaine unbuckled his jeans, slowly pulling down the zip. Merlin could almost hear the low noise of the zip opening and he swallowed again, feeling himself heat up all over. 

Gwaine slipping his hands under the denim and eases his trousers down, lifting them over the bulge of his erection. Merlin let out a breath and shifted. He looked up at his class once more and then slowly put a hand under the table to rearrange his growing erection. It jerked at his touch and it took all his strength to move his hand away but he had to – he drew the line, the very shake, faint line – at masturbation. 

Gwaine had no reason to hold back. He cupped himself and Merlin wished he could hear Gwaine's gasps. 

_get naked first_

Gwaine blinked at the screen a few times then nodded. He stepped out of his jeans and then took off his boxers. 

_fuck you're hot_

Merlin could see Gwaine huff a laugh as he sat down and then wrapped a hand around his cock. 

Merlin bit back a noise as Gwaine thumbed the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum there. Merlin was hard now, pressing against his trousers uncomfortably. He looked up at his students, and the clock – still 15 minutes left – and took a deep breath in and out. 

_you're killing me. come for me_

Gwaine's mouth fell open – maybe on a gasp, maybe a moan, Merlin couldn't tell. His hand sped up, and Merlin tensed up, leaning forward to be closer. 

Gwaine's body spasmed as he came in his hand, head falling forward. Merlin almost cracked his teeth not making a sound at all. 

Gwaine panted a few times then looked up at Mrelin, smiling at the camera, breathless. 

_best way to spend an exam?_ Gwaine typed after wiping his hand. 

_definitely_ Merlin replied. He looked up at the clock. 

“Five minutes left,” he announced to the class, voice only cracking a little bit.

_can't decide if I owe you or you owe me_

_please, I saved you from boredom, you totally owe me_

_you got to come. I'm going to be hard til I get home_

_I'll make it up to you_

* * *

**#20**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwaine/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** Drunk sex and the possible consent issues that go with it.  
 **Text Chosen:** (505): He passed out drunk on top of me. Fully erect. Still inside me. Woke up like 1 minute later, and continued.

Gwaine's mouth was on his and Merlin couldn't help but moan a little as Gwaine crashed them into the nearest wall and ground their hard cocks together. "Get a room!" someone yelled. 

Merlin gave the person the "fuck off gesture" behind Gwaine's back and didn't bother to break away from the kiss long enough to see who had shouted. Gwaine reached for his belt to start to undo Merlin's pants before Merlin realized that they were still in a room filled with people and they should probably take the suggestion. He pushed on Gwaine's shoulders until Gwaine stepped away and grabbed his hand to lead him to Merlin's room.

Once they reached Merlin's room Merlin let go of Gwaine's hand and started to undress. Merlin fumbled as he tried to remove his shirt and nearly tripped over his pants as he kicked them off, the alcohol in his system making his movements clumsy. Gwaine was no better and made for an amusing image when he managed to get stuck in his shirt. Merlin laughed as he walked over to Gwaine and helped extract him from his shirt. 

"Maybe we're to drunk for this," Merlin said. 

"Your dick is certainly up for it," Gwaine replied as he pointed at Merlin's hard cock. 

"You're one to talk," Merlin said. He pointed at Gwaine's cock that was already leaking precome.

"What can I say? You kiss like you're starving for it. It's hot as fuck," Gwaine replied. 

"Get the lube and condoms, Gwaine," Merlin said. He chose to ignore Gwaine's words in favor of laying down on the bed. Merlin spread his legs in order to tempt Gwaine to hurry up.

It worked, the next thing Merlin knew Gwaine was on the bed kneeling between his legs and slicking his fingers in the lube.

"Are you sure?" Gwaine questioned as he stroked a finger against Merlin's hole without breaching it. 

"You're acting like this is out first time. Do it, you asshole," Merlin complained. He pushed his hips down against Gwaine's finger and moaned in encouragement when Gwaine crooked it just right. 

"You're so fucking hot," Gwaine said. He leaned down to kiss Merlin's already swollen and red lips. 

"Shut up and add another finger," Merlin said as he pulled away from the kiss. Gwaine smirked as he did what Merlin asked. 

"Fuck me already, I'm good. I'm loose, from the alcohol," Merlin said after a minute. Gwaine took Merlin at his word and fumbled with the condom for longer than Merlin would have liked. "Hurry up, damn it," Merlin cursed. 

Gwaine was finally inside him and he fucked Merlin in lazy strokes, pushing in slowly and withdrawing just as slowly. It was maddening. 

"Jesus. What are you trying to do?" Merlin questioned. "Faster, Gwaine," He begged. 

"We're going at my pace for now, enjoy it, Merlin," Gwaine teased. He continued thrusting into Merlin at the same pace as before. Merlin sighed in frustration before Gwaine changed the angle slightly and brushed against his prostate in the next thrust. 

"Yeah, right there, Gwaine." Merlin said as he tried to encourage Gwaine to move faster by pushing his hips up against Gwaine. Gwaine responded by mouthing the side of Merlin's neck and hitting his prostate a few more times.

 

He reached down to stroke his own cock, desperate to come. If Gwaine wasn't going to fuck him the way he wanted, Merlin could at least jerk himself off. Merlin got in a few good strokes and was on the verge of coming before Gwaine suddenly and Merlin was pinned by Gwaine's full weight. 

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked in confusion but he got no response. Gwaine was still hard inside him and Merlin tried to shove him off with his one free hand.

"I can't believe you fell asleep," he said as he continued trying to nudge Gwaine off his body, but Gwaine's dead weight wasn't budging. 

"Gwaine, wake up, damn it," Merlin shouted. Again, there was no reaction. 

Suddenly, Gwaine woke up on his own and started fucking into Merlin again as if nothing had happened. 

"I can't believe you," Merlin muttered. 

"I'm just that good," Gwaine replied. 

"You just fell asleep, Gwaine." Merlin replied. 

"Nah. No one would fall asleep while fucking your sweet ass, Merlin," Gwaine replied. 

"Whatever, just don't do it again or we're not having sex for a week. I was about to come," Merlin said, exasperated. His words were followed by a moan as Gwaine finally increased his pace.

* * *

 **#21**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** n/a  
 **Text chosen:** http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-427.html

Gwen works the night shift, seven to seven, and she likes it -- the hospital is quiet, all beeping monitors and slow movement after the 8pm medication rush. She likes going home in the morning, too, likes being able to watch the sunrise as the birds begin to sing and the commuters stumble into coffee shops.

Sometimes, instead of going home on her days off, she goes to Morgana’s. Morgana’s never there; she leaves too early for her own job. “To beat the rush,” she always says, and Gwen dutifully doesn’t say anything about sibling rivalries and pointless contests of wills.

She uses Morgana’s shower, spends long minutes soaping the smell of antiseptic off her skin in long strokes. She pulls Morgana’s clothes on, after, slipping into an old purple camisole soft from wear and a pair of Morgana’s panties before curling up in Morgana’s bed and pulling the sheets around her. It isn’t like having Morgana curled around her, but she sleeps more soundly anyway.

She sleeps straight through the day, straight through Morgana’s texts, not waking until Morgana crawls into bed with her, late that evening. She smells like perfume, and when Gwen rolls over to greet her, she tastes like scotch. She kisses Gwen hard, presses close until Gwen is gasping and opening to her, letting Morgana slide her tongue into her mouth, her knee between her thighs.

“Missed you,” Morgana says, quiet, lips brushing along Gwen’s skin.

“Saw you two days ago,” Gwen says fondly, pushing Morgana’s hair out of her face. Morgana rolls her eyes and bends to push her tongue against Gwen’s nipple through the thin fabric of the camisole, fingers slipping down, down over Gwen’s belly to run along the scalloped edge of the panties. 

“Much too long,” she murmurs, muffled against Gwen’s breast. Gwen’s distracted from replying when Morgana’s hand flattens out between the rise of her hips. Gwen’s spreads her legs eagerly, anticipating; she can’t help the hitch in her breath when Morgana finally thumbs lightly over her clit, her hand pressed close by the silky stretch of the panties.

“You,” Gwen gasps; “you don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not when the payoff is this sweet,” Morgana says, grinning, and bites at the soft undercurve of Gwen’s breast as she slides two fingers along Gwen’s folds, the noise of them in the slick unmistakable. Gwen hisses a breath through her teeth and bends her knees up, and Morgana pushes the shirt up her stomach, sucking a biting trail down the soft rolls while she works Gwen with her fingers, teasing until Gwen is sweating and rolling her hips into the touch, begging for more.

“Can’t believe you,” Morgana says, her own voice wobbly. “Come home, find you here in my bed, in my _clothes_...” Gwen groans, and Morgana pulls her fingers _out_ , smearing them over Gwen’s skin. Gwen makes an outraged noise, and then Morgana is pulling the panties aside, though she doesn’t strip them off. She has her tongue on Gwen -- she has her tongue _in_ Gwen, and Gwen falls apart with Morgana’s face buried between her thighs, Morgana’s tongue deep and clever, everything slick and hot with the borrowed panties cutting into her hips. She barely needs Morgana’s fingers: Morgana pulls back and licks her, long confident strokes straight up to her clit, and Gwen’s finished, whimpering high choked groans as Morgana brings her through it.

She means to help Morgana, but Morgana’s got the fingers of her free hand deep in her own cunt and Gwen knows the way she’s gasping against Gwen’s thigh means she doesn’t need any help. She’s there already, just from taking Gwen so masterfully apart. 

“Thanks,” Gwen says, drowsily, when they’ve come down and cleaned the worst of it off themselves with the corners of the sheets. “‘s just what I needed.”

Morgana kisses her, sweet, letting Gwen taste herself. “Darling,” she says, “that was only round one.”

* * *

 **#22**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** “We didn't mean to put a petting zoo in the elevator.”

Arthur blinks against the sunlight piercing his eyelids, trying to make sense of his surroundings through the brain-splitting headache. He's in Morgana's flat, he realises, lying on the floor in front of the couch, rug chafing against his cheek. Groaning, he turns around, which makes him register another ache, coming from his backside or - more precisely - from his butthole. Reaching down gingerly, Arthur discovers he's not only completely starkers, but there's also a distinct wetness between his cheeks.

Staring ahead uncomprehendingly, Arthur catches sight of a bright red dildo lying among crumbled condom wrappers, lube and what looks like a can of spray cream. His heart is beating in his throat as his brain starts connecting the dots. 

Upon hearing a moan, he rolls over and comes face to... arse with someone. The arse in question is sporting a tattoo of a sword rammed into a bleeding heart with Arthur's name written across, and Arthur suddenly has a flash of– 

_drawing his tongue sensually over those inky lines, biting into supple flesh..._

But that can't be. He's straight. He even has a girlfriend to prove it. Well, ex-girlfriend, technically. 

He still can't keep his eyes from travelling up that stretch of a pale back, leading to a graceful neck and a ruffled mop of dark hair and Arthur's–

_pulling that hair, bright blue eyes blinking up at him while glistening red lips wrap around his cock._

Arthur chokes, trying to shake off the images when he feels himself growing hard, and then the mysterious man turns around with a grunt and Arthur stares into familiar blue eyes. His name is Merlin, Arthur remembers. One of his sister's weird activist friends, who grudgingly picked Arthur up from the airport yesterday because Morgana couldn't make it.

''What happened?'' Merlin croaks, squinting at Arthur and then around the room. 

Arthur grimaces. ''I'm... not sure. But it looks like we engaged in...uh...'' He helplessly waves towards the condom wrappers.

Merlin frowns. ''You mean we fucked?''

Arthur glares at him. ''Well, it sure _feels_ like I have been.'' 

Merlin's eyes are round as saucers. ''Didn't you say you have a girlfriend?''

''Ex. Technically.''

''Then why-?''

''How would I know!?'' Arthur explodes, jumping up and grabbing a cushion to cover his crotch.

Merlin only raises an eyebrow at him. ''Okay.'' He holds up his hands placatingly. ''Lets recapitulate what we know.''

''Well, you picked me up...''

''...and you were a right prat about it just because I was a little late.''

''An _hour_ late!''

Merlin ignores him. ''Then there was a bar...''

''…and tequila shots,'' Arthur offers.

''Because you insisted that a 'nancy boy' like me couldn't possibly drink you under the table.''

Arthur scoffs. Actually he had just needed an excuse to drown his misery. Scowling, Arthur grabs a flimsy thong hanging from a lampshade and throws it at Merlin. ''There. Might as well get dressed.''

''That's not mine.''

Arthur sucks in a sharp breath, suddenly remembering–

_the booming music vibrating through the floor under his bare feet and up his body. Feeling high with it as he forcefully thrusts his hips in a matching rhythm, holding on to the sleek pole in front of him and grabbing the skimpy Union Jack covering his crotch as the crowd beneath him goes wild.._. 

He remembers Merlin snapping pictures. Remembers–

_Merlin's slender body on all fours in front of him, naked apart from Arthur's tie slung around his neck, Arthur holding it like a leash while Merlin nuzzles his dick._

''Look at your phone,'' he croaks and, with a frown, Merlin complies.

''What the ever-loving fuck!'' Merlin screams. ''You made me eat a hot dog!?''

''What?''

''It's like I personally murdered Babe!'' Merlin wails, accusingly waving his phone at Arthur. There's a picture of them, both grinning, arms slung around each other, biting into a hot dog from opposite ends.

''You have my name tattooed on your arse and freak out over a sausage?'' 

''I have _what_!?'' Merlin strains his neck to look before shooting him an outraged look. 

Arthur doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, choosing to flee to the bathroom instead. After a minute, he stumbles back out. 

''If it helps...'' he offers in way of an apology. ''There are three very alive rabbits in the bathtub.'' 

Merlin, now wearing a black PETA t-shirt, looks at him sheepishly. ''Well, I guess they go with the Shetland pony in the elevator.''

* * *

 **#23**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** age difference, underage, possible dubcon because of power differential  
 **Text Chosen:** “I’ve grown up since last year. I don’t give blowjobs as birthday presents anymore.”

The king looked despairingly at the stripling kneeling before him. The boy had arranged his body into the posture of a penitent, but the sparkle in his eyes showed that he was as incorrigible as ever. 

“Merlin, what am I going to do with you? Haven’t we talked about how inappropriate it is for you to be catting around with stableboys and knights alike? When do you even have time to _sleep_? No, don’t answer that, I know you doze off on my bed mid- morning when you are supposed to be doing your chores!” 

The king did not mention that he knew about Merlin’s illicit naps because he could catch the scent of roses and frankincense on the pillows at night. And he knew damn well that Merlin was helping himself to one of Morgana’s bottles of perfume every morning. 

He didn’t say anything about it because Merlin’s scent on the pillows invariably led Arthur to a satisfying wank. 

Merlin had come to Camelot when he was fourteen, and by the time he was fifteen his sexual exploits were the stuff of legends. He was seventeen now, and the thirty-five year old king was finding it harder every day to remember why his manservant was off limits. 

“Hey!” Merlin objected. “I’ve grown up a lot. I don’t give blowjobs as birthday presents anymore!” 

“Not to hear Gwaine tell it,” Arthur answered drily. “And you do not address your king as “Hey!” you address me as Sire.” 

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin said meekly, dark eyelashes sweeping down toward his exquisite cheekbones. “I’m sorry I was rude. Is there some way I can make it up to you?” 

The king made his voice stern. “I hope you are not going to insult both of us yet again by suggesting that you confer some of your indiscriminate sexual favors on me?” 

Merlin’s pink tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth, and he said sulkily, “I don’t see what harm there would be in you taking me up on my offer. Who knows, you might like it.” 

The sovereign shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The truth was, Merlin made him hard every time he saw him, and he had been fighting his attraction to the boy the whole time Merlin had been in Camelot. Maybe it would be good for Merlin to have one person to guide and control his seemingly insatiable sexual urges? A person of years and experience, who would know how to channel the youth’s wildness? 

He didn’t want the lad to catch some loathsome disease, after all. And it always made him jealous to hear Gwaine boasting about what a sweet mouth Merlin had. 

Well, Gwaine and Percival and Geraint and Bedivere and Elyan and Lamorak and Gareth and Kay and Hoel…. 

At least Lance and Leon had the courtesy and good sense not to talk about Merlin’s mouth, although he was fairly sure they also were among its admirers. 

Arthur was nearing the edge of his self-control, when Merlin decided the question for him by reaching back and undoing the knot of his neckerchief as he shuffled forward on his knees. 

Knee-walking was another skill Merlin had perfected during his years in Camelot. 

The next thing the king knew, his belt was loosened and his trousers and smallclothes were pulled down and his prick was deep inside the prettiest mouth in the kingdom. 

Merlin sucked Arthur’s cock with enthusiasm and skill. Arthur rarely got to see him without the neckerchief, and the sight of Merlin’s collarbones and the silky feel of Merlin’s hair under his hands had him close to coming in an embarrassingly short time. 

Arthur pulled out at the last minute, unable to resist the temptation to paint the boy’s face with his spending, and the streaks of white made a very pretty picture indeed striping across Merlin’s angelic face. 

Merlin licked his lips before reaching for his discarded neckerchief to wipe his face. Then he reached down between his legs and hurriedly brought himself off, gazing into the king’s eyes the whole time. 

Merlin nonchalantly cleaned himself off with the neckerchief and clambered into Arthur’s lap, and the king kissed the top of his head and whispered fiercely, “No more blow jobs for anyone but me.” 

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin answered sleepily. “And if it isn’t too much trouble, I would like to have my own bottle of perfume. Please.” 

_Excellent. Merlin’s manners were improving already._

* * *

**#24**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin; Morgause/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** (504): Tickle wars 95% of the time end in sex.

_Morgana and Morgause tickle war_ , Merlin texted Gwaine. _Send help_

Merlin’s phone buzzed. _95% of tickle wars end in sex. Ur lucky_

Merlin tossed the mobile aside and looked over at Arthur, who clearly agreed with Gwaine. “You’re seriously turned on by that?” Merlin asked, gesturing with his beer bottle to where Morgause had Morgana pinned and shrieking with laughter.

Arthur didn’t blink. “Huh?” 

“They’re _sisters_!” 

“Mmm.” 

“One of them’s _your_ sister!” 

No response, so Merlin looked over again. _Oh God, was that baby oil?_

“You’re gay!” Morgause paused from pouring some kind of oil down Morgana’s bikini top to tell them to shut the fuck up. Arthur just glared at Merlin and grabbed the beer bottle, draining it. Now Merlin had no more beer, with the added torture of watching Arthur fellate a beer bottle.

Arthur noticed his torment. “You’re seriously turned on by that?” he mocked.

Merlin growled, lunging and flattening Arthur to the cottage’s floor. Merlin was going to make Morgause’s tickle assault on Morgana look like friendly horseplay.

Arthur didn’t fight as Merlin lifted the jersey Arthur wore and found his ribs, his neck, his armpits with his long fingers. Finally, Merlin stopped, half-sprawled over Arthur’s apparently un-ticklish belly whilst Arthur pretended to check his watch.

“What the hell was that?” Arthur asked.

“Erm…horseplay?” Merlin stammered. Across the room, Morgana and Morgause were showing their support by pretending to stick their fingers down their throats.

“Here.” Morgana tossed the oil before the pair squelched their way down the hall. It fell next to Arthur’s thigh, conspicuous, and Merlin felt a flush spreading over his face. The distraction allowed Arthur to flip Merlin over and press him face-down into the carpet.

“No, Merlin,” Arthur said as he pinned both of Merlin’s wrists above his head with one of his. “ _This_ is horseplay.” With his other hand, he uncapped the oil and poured a long stream into the hollow of Merlin’s lower back where his shirt had ridden up. 

Apparently horseplay had different meanings. Merlin shivered. 

“Oh, sorry, are you ticklish here?" Arthur murmured and Merlin shook his head emphatically. “I don’t think I believe you.” Arthur dragged his fingers through the oil and teased them lightly over Merlin’s sides until Merlin was gasping with laughter.

“Right. Definitely ticklish there. What about here?” Arthur continued, reaching under Merlin to press fingers to his belly. 

Merlin again denied it, and again was reduced to a squirming, giggling mess.

“Here?” Arthur asked, bringing his fingers up to Merlin’s neck. Merlin stilled as Arthur let go of his wrists and rested his hand warm against the back of Merlin’s neck. When Merlin tried moving away, Arthur pressed down enough so Merlin could feel the nap of the carpet pressing into his cheek.

“No, no. Stay there,” Arthur ordered. “And unbuckle your belt for me. My hands are too slippery.” 

Merlin gulped and complied. It was awkward, face pressed into the carpet and oil dripping everywhere. When he finished, he brought his hands back up over his head.

“Oh, good boy,” Arthur crooned, and then slid slippery fingers beneath Merlin’s oil-stained waistband and into the crease of his arse. “Now, tell me. Are you ticklish here?” he whispered, and lightly skimmed his fingers over Merlin’s puckered hole. 

Merlin groaned and pressed up into Arthur’s fingers.

“You _are_ ticklish there? Brilliant.” Merlin couldn’t see Arthur’s face, but he could imagine his grin of triumph as Arthur slid two sure fingers into Merlin and began fucking them into him, hard and relentless until two fingers became three and there was the squelch of more oil and three became _oh God was that four?_

“Four?” Arthur leaned down and whispered in Merlin’s ear, and the feel of Arthur’s stubble made Merlin mewl just as Arthur doubled his rhythm against Merlin’s prostate. “That's right, sweetheart. Just lie there and take it. You're so good.”

Arthur’s fingers kept fanning out and curling in over and over and over, while Merlin struggled against Arthur’s grip, howling and begging until finally, he pleaded hoarsely for Arthur’s whole hand.

Arthur’s eyes darkened. “We need better than oil for that. Another time, yeah?” He punctuated his vow with a soft kiss to Merlin’s cheekbone. “How ‘bout I give you my cock instead? I’ll shove it in good and hard for you.”

Later, as Merlin squirmed in his chair through dinner, his phone buzzed again. 

_So what happened with the lesbian incest tickle fight?_ Gwaine.

_Sex_ , Merlin texted back.

* * *


	2. Group B (warnings)

**#25**  
 **Pairing(s):** Morgana/Morgause  
 **Warning(s):** use of the c-word,  
 **Text Chosen:** (423): What happened with the girl wasn't a gay thing. It was just a mutual respect and want for sex. The guys just weren't there. (1-423): Call it what you want. You fucked a girl.

 

It was that sad time of the night, when most of the life had already drained out of the bars. Morgana sighed; she just wanted to get laid.

It was all Arthur’s fault. He swore by that dating site, saying it always got him laid. So, she had signed up and in a matter of hours had a date set with a guy who seemed like her type. But here she was, hours after he stood her up, killing a bottle of wine by herself. 

“Last call!” the bartender announced. 

She didn’t need another drink, but she was disappointed that she had to leave. She had hoped she could pick up someone else and prevent the night from being a complete failure. 

Morgana watched as the bartender started closing tabs, flirting with everyone who came to the bar, her lips curved into a sultry smile, her smoky eyes fluttering as she tossed back her blonde hair. 

“Hey, I gotta close up,” the bartender said a while later. “Want me to call a cab?”

Morgana looked around and realized that she was the only one left. Shaking her head she got unsteadily to her feet. 

The bartender bit her lip. 

“Look, I live around the corner. Let’s get you coffee? I’m Morgause,” she said, guiding them outside. “It’s Morgana, right? Saw your tab.”

Morgana nodded. “Thanks. You didn’t have to,” she sighed. “The night was a disaster.”

As they walked, Morgana told her about the failed date.

“Pathetic, right?” Morgana concluded as Morgause ushered them inside.

“No. We all have needs. But I don’t understand,” Morgause pressed on, “why you are limiting what can fulfill those needs.” At Morgana’s confused expression she added, “I don’t see any guys here, but I do see us.”

Morgana’s mouth fell open. “Oh!”

“I couldn’t believe you were still there when we closed. If I wasn’t working…” Morgause trailed off. “You are so beautiful.”

Morgana felt her face flush as Morgause stepped closer, pinning her against the counter.

“You can say no. “ A whisper against Morgana’s mouth.

“Yes,” Morgana said, bringing their mouths together. 

The kiss was hot and soft and everything that Morgana had been craving. She moaned as the kiss became deeper and hotter, quickly moving from soft to something else completely. 

Morgause kissed and bit down Morgana’s neck to her shoulders, pushing open the wrap dress she was wearing before continuing down to her bra. She pushed the material aside and sucked one of Morgana’s nipples into her mouth. Morgana gasped and threaded her fingers tightly into the other woman’s hair and she could feel Morgause grin against her chest.

Morgause slipped back up Morgana’s body, grabbing her thighs and lifting her up onto the counter as she straightened. 

“You are so fucking hot,” Morgause whispered, pushing away the rest of the dress, so that Morgana’s lacy bra and panties were on display. 

“I was hoping to get lucky,” Morgana explained.

“Oh, you will.” She promised, licking down Morgana’s body. She breathed hot against the front of Morgana’s panties, kissing lightly through the fabric. 

“Please,” Morgana moaned, wrapping her legs around Morgause. 

Morgause pushed the panties aside, sliding her tongue down Morgana’s cunt. Morgana moaned, gripping Morgause’s hair as the other woman sucked hard on her clit. Longing for more contact, she pushed her hips forward. Morgause slipped a finger inside her, matching the rhythm of her tongue. 

Morgana pinched her own nipples as her breath became shallower. She swore it had never been this good. 

As Morgause slipped a second finger inside of her, Morgana’s body shuddered. She could feel herself squeezing around the fingers. She pressed her clit harder against Morgause’s mouth, tilted her head back and let out a scream that would give the neighbours no doubt as to what was going on. 

Morgause eased her fingers out, placing one last kiss on Morgana’s sensitive clit before rising and capturing Morgana’s mouth. Morgana sighed into the kiss, tasting herself on Morgause. 

“That was amazing,” she breathed before slumping forward to rest her head on Morgause’s shoulder, exhausted.

“I know,” Morgause grinned. “Let’s go to bed. In the morning, you can show me how amazing you are.”

* * *

**#26**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** Do not tell guys at bars about kittens you rescue. They will walk away.

 _"Mer_ lin,” Arthur mutters fondly. He noses against the long, pale stretch of Merlin’s neck, runs his hands down Merlin’s chest. “Such a ridiculous name. It fits you, you know, you ridiculous idiot- just look at those ears of yours.” 

Arthur kisses and bites his way up Merlin’s throat, his jaw, coming to a stop at Merlin’s right ear. He takes it between his teeth and tugs gently, loving the way Merlin’s struggling to control his ragged breathing, already so affected by Arthur’s attentions yet trying not to show it. 

“God, and your mouth,” Arthur murmurs. He takes Merlin’s face in his hands and strokes his thumb across his lower lip, his cock stirring when Merlin’s tongue darts out and swipes a wet trail across the pad of his finger. 

“It should be illegal,” he continues, his voice now hoarse. “I kept staring at it when you were chatting up that prick at the bar, telling him about the fucking kitten you rescued from a tree, of all things. Couldn’t look away from it, from you- couldn’t believe my luck when he realized you weren’t going to be the dirty little quickie he thought you’d be and left you sitting there all alone.” 

Before he’d even made the decision to approach Merlin and try to cheer him up, he’d imagined what Merlin’s lips could do- how they would beg Arthur to touch him, to give him what he needed. The sounds they would make when Arthur finally did, teasing Merlin to the edge, making it last as long as he could. 

“Are you going to talk my ear off all night, or are you going to _do something_?” Merlin huffs breathlessly, snapping Arthur out of his reverie. 

“Don’t you worry. I’m going to do- shite!” Something lands on Arthur’s back, sending tiny pinpricks of pain flaring up across his skin. 

“Arthur. Whatever you do, don’t move,” Merlin orders. The urgency in his voice and eyes sends a thrill of fear through Arthur, and he freezes immediately, though he keeps his body tense and ready to jump into action. 

“Merlin,” he says, softly. The pinpricks move across his back and settle on the center of it, then disappear completely, replaced by a furry weight. “What is it?” 

“Er, remember that kitten that I was telling the prick about?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t actually bring myself to get rid of him,” Merlin confesses sheepishly.

“You- oh.” Arthur blinks. “Hell, Merlin, don’t scare me like that. I thought it was something else!” 

“What else could it be?” 

“I don’t know, just- would you like to get him off of me so we can resume things?” 

“Of course not!” Merlin cries, and fuck if he isn’t staring at Arthur as if he suggested they go steal from little old ladies. “He’s falling asleep, we can’t move him now.” 

Arthur can’t find it in himself to argue with that, so he lowers himself onto the bed as slowly as he can without disturbing the kitten. The beaming smile Merlin gives him afterwards twists something in his chest, and he knows he’s well on his way to being fucked- both figuratively and literally.

* * *

**#27**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Some infidelity  
 **Text Chosen:** (319): I went out to have a smoke, and next thing I know, he's got me bent over a picnic table praying to deities I don't believe in. You should have been there.

The blonde bloke was there again.

Not that Merlin really noticed, or taken any special attention or anything.

It was the second night this week that his obnoxious neighbors had thrown a party, and Blonde bloke was sitting on Merlin’s picnic table again, his head bent over his phone screen, elbows resting on his knees. If it had been anyone with less glistening hair or an ass that didn’t look quite as good in fitted jeans, Merlin would have been pissed.

Blonde Bloke looked up just as Merlin stepped off the porch with a cigarette in hand, and Merlin's face lit up from the brief flame of his lighter.

“Sorry for coming over here into your yard. I didn’t realize anyone was home,” Blonde Bloke said, though his ass didn’t show sign of moving.

Merlin breathed out smoke. “Bullshit. You just didn’t care if you were trespassing or not.”

Blonde Bloke stared for a minute, not quite surprised, just intensely curious and scrutinizing.

“I needed a breather for a minute. Problem with that?”

“I’d have less of a problem if your ass wasn’t where I eat.”

“Yeah? Gonna call the cops on my ass or what?

Merlin didn’t know what gripped him, but the dark heat he could just make out shining in Blonde Bloke’s intense gaze spurned him on.

“Nah, I can just think of better uses for your ass.”

Merlin blew smoke into the air to hide the hints of his own self-doubt, and missed the Blonde Bloke’s brief wide eyes.

“Alright, talk big, but are you gonna back it up?” 

“Before I back anything up, tell me your name. That way I can stop calling you ‘Blonde Bloke’ in my mind.” The other guy threw his head back to laugh. Merlin stepped closer despite himself, when he saw the perfect jaw line and bared curve of throat.

“Arthur.”

“Merlin.”

The next thing Merlin knew, he was standing between Arthur’s spread knees. The first thing Arthur did was reach for Merlin’s hand still holding his cigarette, guide it to a spot on the tabletop, and press the cigarette out.

“Well aren’t you a giant prat. That spot’s probably never going away.”

With a quick grip on Merlin’s thighs, Arthur stood, spun them around, and pressed Merlin backwards onto the table, slotting himself in between Merlin’s legs.

“Good,” Arthur breathed behind Merlin’s ear. “So you’ll always remember this.” 

Arthur produced a condom from a pocket, causing Merlin’s hash breathing to stutter into a laugh.

“God, you’re fucking terrible.”

Arthur just grinned. “We going half or all the way?”

“Don’t insult me.” One of Merlin’s hands was already undoing his own pants.

Arthur made a sharp sound through his teeth, his hands already chasing bare skin.

In the dark, where the porch light only illuminated the edges of Arthur’s face, everything happened fast, catching Merlin up in a gasping blur. He saw Arthur’s wet fingers slide from his mouth, then he was rocking against them as they crooked and scissored inside him. His knees tightened against Arthur’s hips, then Arthur fumbled with the condom in the dim light, ungraceful for only the briefest moment before he was pressed along Merlin again. 

He slid past any resistance. Merlin kept his arms locked around Arthur’s neck, focusing on gritting himself to the pain, because he had never experienced anything more shamefully, flawlessly filthy.

Arthur was gripping the table behind Merlin for purchase, and Merlin kept his arms and legs tight around Arthur as Arthur pumped into him. His thighs ached from holding them so far open, but Merlin couldn’t focus on anything but the heat driving into him.

“Better make this worth the splinters I’ll have in my ass,” Merlin managed to gasp, making Arthur grip his hips instead, pulling him in for each drive, harder and intimate, until Merlin came sooner than he’d had any intention to. 

In the overwhelming aftershocks, just as Arthur came and then stilled, a voice called from the other side of the hedges that separated Merlin’s lawn from the neighbors.

“Arthur! Arthur, I know you’re over there somewhere.”

It was a girl’s voice. In response Arthur just pressed them both deeper into the shadows and placed his lips over Merlin’s to whisper, “Shhh.” Merlin was still tingling from head to foot, with the feel of Arthur starting to go soft inside him.

The girl finally went away, and Arthur pulled back only slightly.

“That your girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Problem with that?”

Merlin was surprised only for a second.

“What do you think?” he asked, rolling his hips where Arthur was still inside him. “We better take this inside before she comes back.”

* * *

**#28**  
 **Pairing(s):** Leon/Gwaine  
 **Warning(s):** classism, embarrassment, class difference kink, angry sex  
 **Text Chosen:** [(325): I don't know which I need first...a shower or a confessional.](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-58119.html)

Among the highest knights, Leon is the only nobleman. It doesn’t bother him, truly. All of the other low-born have no need to make an effort at genteel behavior. Percival takes ladies' hands with the utmost care; Elyan recites poetry with the skill of a bard, and Lancelot discusses land disputes with air of a scholar and the patience of a saint.

But Gwaine. _Gwaine_ gets drunk at feasts. _Gwaine_ tells bawdy jokes within hearing of the queen. _Gwaine_ fights like he learned it grappling with drunks in someone’s barn.

And the worst part is? He _wins fights like that._

And Gwaine knows exactly how much it offends Leon, the cur. Leon tells him off for the seventeenth time for making a mockery of the art of combat, and Gwaine just grins like a loon.

“My friend, you take fighting too seriously.”

He clearly needs to be taught a lesson. Leon lunges forward in a classic thrust, and Gwaine fucking _spins on his heel_ , slaps Leon upside the head, and somehow ends up seven paces away with Leon’s sword in his hand.

*

Leon is sputtering with anger by the time he catches up with Gwaine in the armory. “Dishonorable, and barbaric, and positively—”

“Ignoble?” There’s a brittle quality to Gwaine’s laugh. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I am but a common man, and we commoners go around brawling and drinking and putting cocks in our mouths like the Romans.”

Leon scowls. “Oh for God’s—”

“What do you think, my lord? What’s the best way to overcome my vulgar ways? Prayer and abstinence? Or no. I’m too weak for that. Probably just need to get it out of my system.” Gwaine’s voice has gone low, not-quite joking, as he stalks forward.

“Probably. You’ve no self control to speak of.” Leon feels a jolt of uncertainty, though. Gwaine’s face is unreadable.

“Perhaps I should start now, then?”

Leon’s too shocked to react when Gwaine goes down on his knees and un-does Leon’s laces.

“What—,” but he cuts himself off when Gwaine raises a daring eyebrow. This is a game of chicken, and Leon has lost out too many times this week to turn back now. Besides, it’s not as if Gwaine is actually going to put his mouth on Leon’s—

“Sweet holy virgin,” Leon curses.

They just stand there, Gwaine with a mouthful of Leon’s flaccid cock, and Leon’s frozen, staring at the crossbows hanging on the wall behind Gwaine’s head. He’s suddenly trying to remember the last time he had a piss, and whether he’d shook the drops off well enough, because now all of that is _in Gwaine’s mouth_. His sudden revulsion makes him shudder, and his cock moves and slides against the hot inside of Gwaine’s cheek, and oh god. His entire body clenches up still, except, mortifyingly, for his cock, which seems to have independently elected to humiliate him by slowly expanding in Gwaine’s mouth. He’s getting hard.

Gwaine’s laughing, the bastard, but he keeps his mouth near the base of Leon’s cock, nosing about in the curly little hairs there like a goddamn dog, and Leon’s cock is actually starting to poke at the back of Gwaine’s throat.

Gwaine chokes, a little, and Leon has never felt so unclean and so inflamed in his whole life. His mind goes blank and stupid in the next moment, because Gwaine starts licking and sucking, and he’s caught between noticing a broken crossbow trigger and digging his fingers into Gwaine’s skull.

Gwaine’s snuffles and slurps and chokes greedily on Leon’s cock, and disgust coils in Leon’s stomach at the sounds—and yet. His disgust just fuels the burn between his legs. Leon’s hips jerk, and before he’s quite registered it, he is fucking Gwaine’s mouth. Maybe this is what it feels like to be an animal.

What would the knights think, if they walked in the armory just now? Lord, what would the _Arthur_ think? If he came in and saw his First Knight eagerly poking his prick down a man’s throat, bouncing like a dog in rut. Perversely, the thought makes his bullocks tighten.

“Gwaine,” he says, and pulls at Gwaine’s hair, because this is already the most obscene thing Leon’s ever done, and he is absolutely not going to—

Gwaine groans, guttural, and clenches his hands on Leon’s arse and holds on with all his strength, and Leon curls over him, cursing and coming down Gwaine’s peasant throat.

* * *

**#29**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** I'm stripping for him via video chat, but the sound is turned off cause his students are taking a test 

Arthur hastily poured himself a cup of coffee, to go as usual, put on his jacket, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his laptop case, and as a last minute addition, picked up his umbrella as he rushed out the door. A balancing act of truly professional quality. It was days like these – gloomy, rainy, and always too early in the morning – that he envied Merlin’s life as an author. Of course, they had bonded over words and poetics but Arthur was more inclined to teach than to write. 

What nobody mentions when talking about middle schools is that sometimes, particularly on gloomy, rainy mornings, the clock seems to tick by as slowly for teachers as it does for students. Arthur already ate half his lunch before 3rd period, and was looking forward to the class ending so that he could finish. As the bell rang, students filtered in and took their seats, some looking around nervously or shuffling through flashcards in anticipation for the test. Arthur cleared his throat, causing most of the students to look up. 

“Today, as you know, is your exam on Fahrenheit 451; there are 20 multiple choice and an essay. Read the questions carefully so you know what they’re asking, and please do try to use correct grammar,” he announced as he picked up the stack of tests and began handing them out to students. Normally when students were taking a test, Arthur would busy himself by grading homework or preparing lessons. However, today he was just too restless and instead turned to his laptop. As it started up, he saw that Merlin was active on Skype. He carefully turned his laptop sound on mute, and clicked to the chatbox.

 

Sexyteacher: You’re up early today. It’s only 11.  
Angstyauthor: sure I am. today’s egg day, and gwen’s farm always runs out before noon  
Sexyteacher: I hope you know that you can just buy eggs from the store.  
Angstyauthor: i’ll pretend you didn’t just say that

The black box indicating an incoming call popped up on his screen, and next thing he knew, he saw…a chest? Merlin’s chest? With his favorite plaid shirt being unbuttoned right as he sat there, revealing a blue T-shirt underneath. A moment of confusion passed over Arthur and the blue T-shirt was being lifted, all the way up and off Merlin’s now very bare chest. Arthur’s eyes grew wide as he realized Merlin’s intention. 

Sexyteacher: Merlin! What are you doing?  
Angstyauthor: are you busy? you don’t seem busy  
Sexyteacher: I’m teaching a class!  
Angstyauthor: i don’t see you teaching…let me teach you something ;)

Arthur just barely managed to stifle a groan as the camera shifted lower and Merlin started undoing his jeans. Underneath he could see a prominent tenting in Merlin’s boxers. Tenting that was moving, as Merlin started to slowly pull those down too. Arthur could feel his face getting hot, and right as he thought it was time to end the call, Merlin’s hands stopped with his boxers still (barely) on. The camera shifted again and Arthur could see Merlin moving away from his computer until most of his body came into view, at which point Merlin started wiggling his hips in ways that were by no means appropriate for Arthur to be witnessing in a school environment. Still, by now Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Merlin’s lithe form, teasing him into madness as he sat here in front of a room full of students. Eventually Merlin’s boxers too came off, and Arthur was forced to endure another 15 minutes of watching Merlin…perform.

He was completely enraptured when the bell rang and the period was suddenly over, startling Arthur and prompting him to almost knock over his coffee. He shut his laptop quickly, promising to himself that he would call Merlin to explain later. He waved goodbye and gave a strained smile to his students as they came up to hand in their tests and left to their next class. Luckily, his break started in about 2 minutes, and the only thought on his mind was getting to the teacher’s bathroom as quickly and discreetly as possible to finish what Merlin had started.

* * *

**#30**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** (adult) soon-to-be-step-brothers (not blood related), incest jokes, drunk/sleepy sex.  
 **Text Chosen:** (813): We pinky-swore to never fuck each other again.

 

“ _Oh my god._ ” Merlin’s voice is muffled where his face’s pushed against Arthur’s marble countertop, arms cradling his head. 

Arthur hums, takes a sip of his coffee. Merlin raises his head, eyes wide, hair stuck up everywhere. His lips are red and wet and still so bruised from the way Arthur bit at them, stroked them with his tongue, stretched them wide with his cock. The memory of their slow glide up and down his dick matches the delicious ache in his arse.

“Promise this will never happen again,” Merlin says, high and urgent, sticking out his pinky finger in the space between them.

“What are you, five?” 

“Never. Again.”

Arthur hooks his pinky finger to Merlin’s, then takes another sip of coffee. 

***

He eats Merlin out in the hallway, jeans down just low enough so Arthur can spread his cheeks, get him wet with the flat of his tongue, open with the tip. 

All shivery and begging, Merlin comes with his hand cupped around the head of his dick.

“Okay, fine,” Merlin says. “Promise now.” He sticks his arm behind him, pinky out and sticky with come.

***

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur says with a twist of his wrist, two fingers snug in Merlin’s hole. “Hurry.” He leans into Merlin more, flattens him against the wall of the loo, mouth wet and open on Merlin’s jaw, behind his ear. 

Merlin makes these little punched out noises with each pump of Arthur’s fingers, bites on his lips, bites on Arthur’s forearm where’s he’s holding Merlin’s hand against the wall.

“Our parents are waiting, Merlin,” Arthur says, teasing, then curls his fingers inside, prods at Merlin until Merlin jolts, trembles and moans when Arthur finds the right spot. The glide of his fingers is so tight, just shy of too dry and Merlin’s knees buckle with it, only staying up because of Arthur’s body.

“God, fuck you. Don’t talk--shit--don’t talk about my mom with your fingers up my arse.”

“Then hurry.” Arthur buries his face in Merlin’s neck, warm and sweaty. It smells like sex. It makes Arthur want to rub off on Merlin, hard and dry, makes him want to fingerbang him until his wrist hurts. “Hurry, hurry, _hurry_.”

***

Too drunk after the rehearsal dinner, Arthur falls asleep half buried inside Merlin, curled around him. He must go soft and hard again, because he wakes with Merlin pushing insistently against him, fucking himself on Arthur’s cock.

“Shit, Merlin.”

Merlin only gives a small whine, high pitched and almost pained. Their parents are sleeping in the next room and hotel walls are thin, so Arthur stifles Merlin’s noises with his hand. Merlin gnaws and licks Arthur’s palm like he can’t keep his mouth close, like he needs something to fill it up, so Arthur pushes two fingers against his tongue, lets him suck.

He fucks Merlin like that, deep, with slow sharp rolls of his hips.

***

“Again?” Arthur goes crossed-eye as he tries to look at Merlin’s pinky two inches from his face.

“ _Yes_ ,” Merlin says, a manic look on his face. Arthur just shrugs and hooks his finger with Merlin’s. “You’re not taking this seriously.” 

Arthur thinks it’s hard to take a bloke seriously when he’s wearing a wrinkled t-shirt, nothing else from the waist down, and come all over his inner thighs. Arthur says so.

“Ugh. I hate you.” Merlin sits on the edge of the bed. “You, and your face, and your arse, and your cock. I really hate your cock.”

“Your arse disagrees,” Arthur says.

Merlin glares at him, then lets out a small laugh and lies on his back. Arthur gets on his knees, takes Merlin’s soft dick in his mouth until it isn’t anymore.

***

The sounds from the wedding reception are faint under them, the room only filled with the sucking wet noises of Arthur fucking Merlin’s face, the harsh breaths he takes through his nose.

Arthur grins down at Merlin and Merlin’s eyes crinkle at the corner in response. “Never thought I’d be so happy to have a brother,” Arthur says just to fuck with him.

Merlin narrows his eyes, sucks harshly on Arthur’s cockhead and fucks Arthur’s slit with the tip of his tongue. Arthur whimpers, comes over Merlin’s lips and cheeks, hips pushing off the wall and fingers buried in Merlin’s hair. Merlin rolls his eyes, right hand already down his trousers, moaning against Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur laughs wetly and pats Merlin’s cheek with a shaky hand. “Welcome to the family, Merlin.”

* * *

**#31**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** [(360): Woke up this morning with a junior police officer sticker over my nipple this morning. ](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-28375.html)

Merlin squinted down at himself.

This was... This was new.

Huh. He pulled delicately at the sticky edge and nope. That was a definite no then with the hair around his nipple stinging sharply from the tug.

What had even happened last night, he groaned to himself through the muzziness in his head. Everything felt like it was coming through a thick, syrupy fog and he had a vague recollection of going to the big fundraising barbecue for the local police force and...

He moaned and hit his head against the wall. Hard.

 _Arthur_.

\---

It was early enough in the evening that he could still hear the children running around screaming with laughter from about _five feet away_.

He spared a moment to question his life choices.

"Oh, come on, Merlin," Gwen had said. "It'll be fun," she'd said. And he had blindly followed her to the fundraiser like a happy little puppy because he had been promised heaps and heaps of hot men in uniform. Except for Lance, her newest infatuation, he was off limits and the whole reason they had come to scope out the police force.

That and something about civic duty, of course. They were active and concerned citizens, coming out to support their community.

And unapologetically stare at those gorgeous asses in their crisp, well-fitted trousers.

Somewhere along the way though everything had gone wrong. And that was how Merlin found himself tugging fruitlessly at one of those starched uniforms in the middle of a frickin children's ball pit, now that it had closed after sunset. Not that the children had gone far.

 _Arthur_ had insisted that it was the best they could do for privacy in the middle of the park and they had slunk in like giggling, handsy teenagers when everyone had seemed distracted.

He was officially a terrible person. And he needed Arthur's dick now, before he exploded and turned the whole field into a flaming supernova, destroying everyone in his path.

He was doing it for the children's future, really.

And of course Arthur was a complete dick about everything, because Merlin just _had_ to be attracted to the shiniest, blondest asshole of them all. If he called him "boy wizard" one more time... But damn did he look good when he shimmied his hips to pull his pants down.

"Someday, you're going to do a strip show for me, when I can actually see what's going on and we're not surrounded by neon colored _balls_. My own personal stripper cop, mmmm..."

"I swear to god, if you don't shut up, I'm going to tape your mouth closed with one of my stickers," he hissed. "There are people right outside!"

"Is that a threat?"

Before Merlin could process anything further, Arthur had knocked him deeper into the ball pit, manhandling him until they were completely surrounded by the balls, and, oh, that felt so strange and kind of lovely along his bare skin. 

And then there was a sticker on his mouth ("for good measure," Arthur grumbled) and one on his nipple (because Arthur liked "the look" of Merlin's body covered in his badge). Never mind that the stickers were supposed to be for children.

Although Merlin glared at him indignantly, he had to agree that this was a much better use for them.

It was even better when Arthur twisted him around, so that his back was to Arthur, his hands trapped there between them in one of Arthur's large palms.

And he had to admire the advanced thinking when the sticker allowed him to scream as much as he wanted when Arthur concentrated all his considerable sexual charms and powers on making Merlin come apart under his hands.

\---

2:36 p.m.: I have a junior police officer sticker stuck to my nipple. I'm afraid to pull it off. And seeing as "ARTHUR STRIPPER COP WITH THE BEST COCK" is my newest contact, I think this belongs to you. All damage is your responsibility.

3:00 p.m.: Fuck off, boy wizard, I'm too hungover for this. You know you liked it anyway.

3:02 p.m.: Asshole.

3:07 p.m.: Drinks tomorrow?

3:08 p.m.: I thought you'd never ask.

* * *

**#32**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** \--  
 **Text Chosen:** "There are 3 pics of me on my camera, naked wearing only an apron, scooping ice cream."  
AND  
"You came downstairs saying you were now 'dressed to impress.'" "What was I wearing?" "Nothing."

Merlin walked into the kitchen. Arthur seemed to sense his presence and looked over his shoulder. It was like something out of a television commercial or a 90’s music video. Arthur was standing in front of the window, shirtless, the golden sunrays beaming down on him, making his blonde hair shine even brighter and the smile he gave Merlin was so beatific, Merlin wanted to cry.

Merlin had woken up in Arthur’s bed with a vague recollection of ice cream and boxful of condoms on the floor. Merlin didn’t want to just come out and ask if they’d had sex. He wanted to give Arthur a little more credit than that and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. The best way to deal with it was just to be tactful and ease into it.

“Did we shag last night or what?”

Arthur froze for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. He picked up the plate of eggs and walked towards Merlin.

Arthur put his hand on his hips. “Do you remember us having sex?”

Merlin shook his head. “No.”

“Then there you go. Trust me, Merlin. If I’d fucked you, you would remember every detail.”

Merlin had to swallow thickly and briefly rub the sweat and lust out of his eyes before he could respond. “Then why did I wake up-”

“Naked?” Arthur interrupted, before he smirked. “Because you’re even more daft drunk than you are normally.” He motioned for Merlin to sit down at the table.

Merlin sat down and had to move the plate of eggs away from him. 

“You called me last night after you went to that party with Gwaine.” Arthur explained. "I brought you here and let you sleep in my bed. Twenty minutes later, you came downstairs saying you were now ‘dressed to impress.’”

“And I was…?

“Naked as the day you were born?” Arthur nodded once. “Yes.” Arthur started to eat some of the eggs off Merlin’s plate. “I carried you back upstairs and put you to bed.”

Merlin put his chin over his hands. See, of course there was a more rational explanation. He picked up a fork and was about to have some eggs, when he put the fork down suddenly. “Condoms. What about the condoms?”

Arthur looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I was kind of hoping to avoid any embarrassment.”

“Oh, no.” Merlin moaned. He was sure he would be the one embarrassed. And he was right.

“Well, you kind of made a pass at me. You wanted to have sex, and then have ice cream afterward. I said no and you went to sleep.”

Merlin sighed. “So nothing happened.” It was more a statement than a question.

Arthur got up and went to the refrigerator. “Of course nothing happened.” There was a slight edge to his voice. He turned around and gestured at the table. “Are you going to eat or what? If you’re not going to eat, I will.”

Merlin picked up his fork wordlessly. He stared down at his plate as something from last night came back to him.

_Merlin grabbed a box of condoms and threw Arthur down on the bed. He quickly straddled Arthur and dumped the contents of the box all over them. Most of the condoms landed on the floor._

_“Come on, Arthur. Don’t you want me?”_

_Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and reversed their positions. He looked down at Merlin. “Of course I do. I would love nothing more than to bend you over this bed and bury my head between my cheeks and do what I’ve wanted to do for so long. I’d eat you out until I hit that sweet spot that had you a sobbing mess and just begging me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight for another week.”_

_Merlin was practically there already._

_“But I won’t. I’m a patient man, Merlin. And I’ve waited to long to have you to waste it on a drunken shag. You mean more to me than that.”_

Merlin couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as Arthur sat down.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Nothing.” Merlin decided to save this information for when he could really do something about it. For now, he just watched Arthur and basked in the knowledge that his feelings were actually reciprocated. This was the best hangover ever.

* * *

**#33**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** “(352): I think it would be like really awesome if scientists could genetically engineer manatees to be like the size of goldfish so I could have one in my fishbowl and be like FUCK YEAH TINY MANATEE” 

When Merlin returned home, Arthur sat hunched in his very rumpled suit, staring morosely at a shot glass and an open bottle. 

The only light was the green shimmer from Arthur's aquarium by the couch.

Merlin sighed. “The board meeting didn't go well, I take it?”

Arthur grimaced and poured liquid from the shot glass down his throat with practised ease. 

“Arthur...?”

“My father's just... he's never content! I'm never good enough! Fuck it. Just forget about it.”

“You seem well on your way to oblivion, true. But this isn't the way to deal.”

Arthur slumped back, staring blindly at the ceiling. Next to him the aquarium bubbled soothingly, a small world of lush plants, rocks, goldfish and a turtle. 

In the sheen from the tank Arthur's face looked drawn and faintly green. His hands were trembling. 

Worried now, Merlin sat down next to him. 

They'd been best mates in childhood, but their paths diverged when Arthur started on his business degree while Merlin struggled (and frequently failed) to make ends meet as an artist. When they reconnected years later, Arthur had immediately offered to let Merlin room with him. Just until Merlin's gravity-defying art installations gained recognition and the big money started rolling in, he'd explained. Merlin was deeply grateful.

He nudged his friend. “You're the best manager Pendragon Industries could possibly have. Don't do this to yourself.”

Arthur snickered. “I'm a failure. The earnings are down. My strategic errors are very disappointing.”

“Didn't your father approve that strategy himself?”

Arthur shrugged and reached for the bottle. 

There was a soft splash as the little turtle launched itself from a rock into the water. Merlin studied it. An idea was forming. He acted quickly, before he could regret it. 

He gestured at the aquarium, whispering a word of command. His eyes glowed golden. 

The green light blinked out. 

Arthur hiccuped in surprise. “Don't kill my goldfish!” 

The light returned. Merlin grinned in delight. His magic was not always reliable, but this time it had obeyed him.

“Arthur, look!”

The turtle had been transformed into a tiny grey animal, bobbing jauntily in the water. It had flippers, whiskers and a friendly, open face. 

Arthur drew a shaking hand across his eyes. “God, I'm so sloshed! I'm _seeing_ things!”

“Please don't be so hard on yourself,” the little creature admonished.

“Augh! That grey blob is _talking!_ ” Arthur pulled back, nearly landing in Merlin's lap. 

“Everything will be OK,” the animal assured him.

“This is a calming manatee, Arthur.” Merlin's voice was gentle. “My spirit animal, and my gift to you. It will always be here to support you and to remind you what a wonderful person you truly are.”

The tiny manatee in the water looked at them with a benign expression. “You're stronger together. Love conquers all. Why aren't you fucking?”

“Ehm...” Merlin said, blushing. His magic was playing tricks on him! “Hush, you silly animal!” 

Cross-eyed, Arthur turned to face Merlin. “Yes, why _aren't_ we fucking?” he inquired.

“Because you're very drunk? Because you'd be horrified later, and hate me forever?”

“I would not!” Arthur exclaimed with inebriated earnestness. “I love you. I've pined and I've lusted and I've wanked _so much_. I want you right now!” 

“Fortune favours the brave,” the manatee intoned approvingly from the glass tank. 

Merlin only hesitated a moment. “Manatee, avert your eyes!” he ordered.

The grey creature obediently disappeared behind the water plants.

x - x - x

Merlin woke up aching deliciously all over. There wasn't a position they hadn't tried. Magic was extremely useful during sexual acrobatics.

Arthur was lying squashed against him on the couch, heavy and sated, snoring softly. 

Merlin wrinkled his nose. The two of them stunk of sweat and semen and morning-after breath, and they seemed to literally be glued together. He wriggled. 

Arthur opened his eyes. 

“Good morning, I hope the sex was prolonged and satisfactory,” the calming manatee said.

“Oh, it was great!” Arthur confirmed enthusiastically. He smiled at Merlin. “You actually have magic? That wasn't just delirium?”

“I do have magic.“ Merlin admitted his big secret with a slight tremor in his voice.

Arthur rubbed against him happily. “It's brilliant! Just imagine how we'll use your levitation skills! Oh Merlin, I love you!”

The tiny manatee looked them over, sniffing pointedly. “Why aren't you fucking right now.... in the shower?”

* * *

**#34**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** I think it’s a sure sign I need to get laid when every cloud in the sky looks like a penis.( And) It is a little weird that I am blowing my wingman. (even though the last got turned into an established relationship, because I am ~~cool~~ odd like that)

Gwaine never had good ideas. Sure they usually sounded great at the time but, somehow, they always come back to bite Merlin in the ass. 

Case in point: after a round of training in temperatures that could melt dragon scales, Gwaine expressed the need to hit a pub for some booze and someone to warm his sheets. Or as he put it, “ _I think its a sure sign I need to get laid when every cloud in the sky looks like a penis._ ” At least, that was what Merlin thought he meant.

Of course, once you allowed one knight to go to the pub...they all wanted to go. If that wasn’t asking for trouble, Merlin didn’t know what was.

At least they traveled outside Camelot’s walls to a neighboring village pub where Arthur would not be so recognized easily. Merlin kept to a darkened corner, where he drank tankard after tankard of water because ale did not aid in Merlin’s duty to keep Arthur safe.

His devotion to avoiding drunkenness didn’t help much when someone decided to throw a punch at Gwaine. 

And, of course, once one a drunk knight was hit, the chain reaction sparked, and all of them dived into the fight.

Merlin did his best to have Arthur’s back--with a little help from his magic--but even great magical powers were no match for a sucker punch to the back of the head. And with that last event, Merlin’s world went black. 

 

Merlin awoke with a fuzzy-looking Arthur and the night sky in his view. He closed his eyes again with a groan. The pounding in his head had a rhythm that reminded Merlin of a blacksmith's hammer, shaping a stubborn piece of metal, and it only got stronger with each breath. 

“Only you would be stupid enough to get hit on the head, _Mer_ lin. Haven’t you learned by now to watch your back?”

Merlin raised a hand across his eyes. His head hurt too much to deal with Arthur in all his prat-ness. 

“I thought, by now, you would have learned never to follow Gwaine into a pub. Hell, Arthur, we _met_ him during a fight in a pub... that _he_ started.”

Merlin heard a rustling of leaves and dirt near his head. Arthur must have felt a little guilty if he was reduced to common fidgeting. Merlin sighed. “Is everyone ok?” 

“Yeah. Percival and Elyan didn’t take it well when they saw you go down. The fight was pretty much done after that.” Arthur sat down next to Merlin with a huff. “You know they are _my_ knights, yet it seems that they have more loyalty to _you_.”

Merlin felt the corner of his lips curl up at that. “This is why I’ve been _telling_ you to stop being a royal prat from day one. Friends are a wonderful thing, always helping out when you’re in trouble.”

“I’ll have you know I help out plenty of times! Like last night.”

Merlin gave Arthur’s knee a playful shove. “I don’t see how my mouth on your cock was helping me out.”

“Well,” Arthur drawled out the word as Merlin felt him adjust his body at Merlin’s side. Arthur’s fingers lightly ran across his skin above the waist of Merlin’s pants. “It helps because _now_ I owe _you_.”

Merlin’s breath hitched when me felt Arthur’s thumb follow is hipbone, sliding into Merlin’s pants. “Arthur-”

“Just lay back, I’ll do everything,” Merlin was too focused on Arthur’s fingers on his skin to notice when Arthur loosened the fashings to his pants. “Plus, I hear it can be good for headaches.”

“Some how, I don’t think that’s confirmed medical--oh, good God!” 

The happy hum from Arthur tingled down Merlin’s cock, all the way down to his toes. Merlin’s eyes cracked open, looking up at the darkened night sky. Sometimes Gwaine’s bad ideas _did_ come out better then Merlin could have pictured.

* * *

**#35**  
 **Pairing(s):** Morgana/Gwaine, Arthur/Merlin (Off-screen)  
 **Warning(s):** Public Sex  
 **Text Chosen:** (978): sidebar: i fucked your brother last night

They’ve been texting back and forth all afternoon. It’s not unusual for them, especially with work keeping them up at different hours of the day. Even now, as she eyes the guy sitting at the bar across from her, Morgana’s phone beeps and buzzes obnoxiously. She smirks a little and lifts the vodka and orange that the guy has sent her way before looking down.

“ _Well?_ ”

“ _Hook, line and sinker. :P_ ” she types quickly before lifting her head and looking at the guy across from her. She takes a sip of her drink before running the tip of her tongue across her full, lower lip. “ _Drink purchased, reeling in now._ ” She looks down and hits ‘send’.

She lifts her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder and doing her best to look as though she has nothing better to do this evening. Her phone beeps again.

“ _You’re so fucking predictable._ ” Comes the response and she throws her head back and laughs.

“ _Like you’re not?_ ” She texts back. “ _Let me guess, last night you hooked up with some blond, athletic type. Not too smart, but not a total fuckwit?_ ”

“ _STFU._ ” Is the reply and she chuckles, all the while eyeing the guy across from her.

“ _Love you too... :P_ ”

The phone stays silent and she slips it into her pocket with perfect timing as Bar Guy, slides out of his seat and moves towards her.

“Hi,” says Bar Guy, all smooth, Irish charm and easy smile. “My name’s Gwaine. Can I get you another drink?”

\----

Gwaine has Morgana pinned against the wall in the darkest corner of the club. His hands are cupping her arse through the material of her knickers and his breath is hot and damp against her neck. 

A tiny whimper escapes Morgana’s throat as he grinds his hips against hers and encourages her to wrap her long legs around his waist. She wants this. Has wanted it since she walked into the bar where he’d picked her up. Tonight is one of those nights where she wishes she was a witch, so she could just magic them back to her flat – or his – or at least cast some kind of spell that would keep anyone from looking too close.

His fingers tug at the elastic of her knickers, and a heady mixture of arousal and adrenaline wash over her. Her heart is pounding in time with the bass from the music that’s blasting from a nearby speaker and she adjusts her skirt, frowning momentarily as something digs uncomfortably into her hip. She drags her fingers away from Gwaine’s shoulder, laughing as he groans into her neck, and wriggles her phone from her pocket.

She holds onto the phone, her grip tightening around it as she feels two blunt digits press into her, stealing her breath away; at the same time as her phone buzzes and sends a tiny frisson of pleasure up her arm. Without thinking, she thumbs at the blinking screen and sees that she has several missed calls and a bunch of messages.

As Gwaine’s thumb brushes against her clit, sending her head sliding forward to rest on his shoulder, she taps on her phone to view the latest message from Merlin. She scrolls down the list, ignoring his rambling about how he’s not as predictable as she is, that he doesn’t always go for blond, athletic types; Morgana’s positive that if she weren’t currently being fingered in the middle of a club on the high street, she’d probably be calling him on his bullshit, and telling him to just fucking speak to Arthur already; when she gets to the very last message in the conversation.

“ _Sidebar: I fucked your brother last night._ ”

She chokes and her legs tighten around Gwaine’s waist at the same time he does something incredibly amazing with his thumb and forefinger, and all Morgana can think is that she’s going to kill Merlin for making her think of her best friend and her brother, fucking each other stupid during the first sex she’s had in months.

* * *

**#36**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** None.  
 **Text Chosen:** _(972): It’s not my fault I help girls realise they’re lesbians._ / _(914): I’m gay (203): I know. (914): Yeah, but for you._ / _(416): In case you're wondering what I'm doing, I'll be banging an 18 year old this weekend. Repeatedly._

_What were you even doing at knitting society??_

_Looking for freshers_ , Morgana texted Arthur back.

Her phone blinked a moment later. _Pervert_.

She rolled her eyes. _It’s not my fault I help girls realise they’re lesbians_.

*

And really, what was she supposed to do? Everyone her age was looking for relationships. Morgana was already in a committed relationship with her PHD thesis. She was after no-strings-attached sex, and there was no better place to get it than bi-curious freshers.

It had all gone a bit tits-up this time, though. Somehow she’d ended up arranging a coffee date. Actually, she wasn’t sure it was even a date. “I can’t believe you don’t know how to crochet.” Gwen tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “It’s my favourite kind of knitting – I can teach you, if you like –”

Morgana didn’t know how to knit, full stop, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She leaned forward, so that Gwen would _have_ to notice how low-cut her top was. Gwen stuttered for a moment and wrapped her hands around her mug. “What sort of PHD are you doing? I don’t even know how PHDs work. How long does it take?”

A stupidly long time, apparently. Three coffee maybe-dates and Morgana wasn’t any closer to getting into Gwen’s knickers. She wasn’t sure why she was still trying. Probably Gwen was straight and hadn’t realised Morgana wasn’t straight, and the whole thing was a lost cause.

But Gwen was pretty, and absolutely precious. She was a first-year nursing student, and she liked knitting and hot chocolate and sitcoms. And she was single, Morgana learned on their third coffee seriously-is-this-a-date.

“My boyfriend broke up with me right before we left for uni,” she said. “I cried for a week.” Gwen sipped her hot chocolate. Morgana had bought it for her. “So do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” Morgana was about to launch into her usual spiel about being married to her thesis, but thought better of it. “Actually, I’m gay.”

“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed. With an air of reassurance, she said, “that’s fine.” As if Morgana didn’t already know that.

Two more coffee probably-not-dates and a failed attempt to teach her crochet later, Morgana gave up. She got a bit drunk and texted Gwen. _I’m gay_.

The response came a few minutes later. _I know_.

 _Yeah, but for you_. Morgana poured herself another drink and waited. When there was still no response the next morning, she thought for sure she’d fucked it up.

But Gwen texted her that evening – one word, _drinks??_ And a happy face and a rainbow emoji.

*

_In case you're wondering what I'm doing, I'll be banging an 18 year old this weekend. Repeatedly_ , she texted Arthur that Friday.

 _Perverrrrt_.

 _You’re just jealous_.

*

“I’ve never done this with another girl before,” said Gwen. “Actually, I’ve only done it with one guy – oh!” she exclaimed as Morgana slipped off her bra. Then, “ _ohh_ ,” as Morgana pressed her mouth to Gwen’s breast. She ran her tongue across Gwen’s nipple to hear her squeal.

“How do you feel about strap-ons?” She had two. She went for the double-ended one, and made a point of explaining to Gwen how it worked, if she didn’t know.

“Well, you’re bigger than my ex.” Gwen traced her fingers down the smooth silicon.

“Probably not difficult,” said Morgana.

Gwen’s pussy was shaved, which wasn’t that big of a surprise, and it made things a lot smoother. Morgana slipped her fingers in between her folds, then held her open and nudged the strap-on in. Gwen squeaked and gasped, and pushed up for it, pushing the other end into Morgana. Morgana’s back arched, and her hips stuttered forward.

She fucked Gwen till she was gasping at every thrust, till the strap-on made a slick sound as it moved in and out of her, till her own cunt was clenching around the other end. Gwen said, “please,” like a polite little girl, and Morgana reached down to play with her clit until she came.

When she eased the strap-on out Gwen’s pussy clutched at it, as if reluctant to let it go. “I think I could be gay,” said Gwen. She didn’t say it like _I think I might be gay_ , more like _I think I could get used to this_. Morgana looked up at her, all sweaty and debauched and gorgeous.

Morgana thought, _I think I could be less married to my thesis_. “Want to go again?”

* * *

**#37**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin, implied Gwaine/Gwen/Merlin, implied Arthur/Vivian  
 **Warning(s):** Mild heteronormative angst, some gendered phrasing  
 **Text Chosen:** (303): He is like a dragon that makes me want to spread my butt cheeks, so he can fill me with hot fire

“I’m going to go to the restroom; will you watch my stuff?” Gwen stood, shouldering her purse. Arthur waved her off, waiting until she rounded the corner to snag her power cord. He didn’t know why she gave him a hard time for sharing — there wasn’t much point in bringing his own when their laptops were the same. 

He didn’t notice that she’d left her phone on the table until it started buzzing. Curious, he picked it up. Merlin had texted—

_He is like a dragon that makes me want to spread my butt cheeks, so he can fill me with hot fire._

“You miserable thief!” Gwen laughed, and Arthur dropped her phone, heart hammering.

“What?” he said, watching her eyes flicker between the table and his undoubtedly guilty expression. 

“You took my power cord,” she said, suspiciously checking her phone. Her eyes widened and she fixed Arthur with her most lethal disappointed frown. He held up his hands.

“I didn’t mean to look!” 

“But you did!” 

“You read my texts all the time.” Arthur pointed out. 

“Yes, but Vivian’s idea of sexting is asking what you’re buying her today.” 

That hit a little below the belt, even if it was true. 

“Why did Merlin send that to you, anyway? Shouldn’t your disturbing sexts be coming from Gwaine?” Arthur asked, stomach rolling at the thought of Merlin holding himself...open…for anyone. He knew Merlin liked both men and women in the same abstract way he knew some people experienced poverty. It had never touched his life so explicitly before. 

“That’s none of your business,” Gwen said. 

“Was he talking about me?” Arthur pressed. 

“Oh my _god_.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, snapping her laptop shut. “Gwaine and I invited him over. The three of us—” she broke off, pressing her lips together. “The details are not mine to share, except that he definitely wasn’t talking about you,” she said, with more cheery certainty than Arthur thought he deserved. 

He let it go for several minutes before muttering “Kinky,” under his breath, just for the payback benefit of watching her blush.

——————————————————

Arthur was straight. He watched straight porn and sneaked subtle looks at Gwen’s cleavage and had casual sex with Vivian when she was bored enough to tolerate him for an evening. But he’d challenge any man to discover his friends had indulged in a Devil’s three-way and not picture it.

And he did. In great, selective detail. He’d exhausted three jerkoff sessions in as many days imagining Gwen sweaty and panting between two nondescript men. Mostly because Gwaine’s face did not belong anywhere near Arthur’s fantasies, and he was hesitant to imagine what Merlin’s role had been. Had he fucked Gwen? Did he like breasts the way Arthur did? The soft, round weight in his palm and a hard nipple for his thumb to flick? Did his cock ache for the slick clench of a pussy, or… 

Arthur pressed his face into his pillow, hunching reflexively over the churn of his sheets. _Gwen_. Gwen’s long neck, Gwen’s soft skin, Gwen’s high moans. 

But Merlin, he— he liked, he _said_... 

And the image came unbidden: Merlin’s white hand clenched around the soft curve of Gwen’s thigh, face buried between her legs while his body absorbed thrust after thrust after thrust—

Arthur reared up on his elbows, fists clenched around the headboard to give him the leverage he needed to fuck his orgasm into the mattress.

——————————————————

_Merlin gasping, Merlin touching himself with three fingers stuffed to the knuckles in his ass—_

Arthur closed his eyes and held his breath, desperately willing his mind back to his spreadsheets and expense reports. 

_Merlin, taking it like a woman; Merlin, covered in come—_

He had the presence of mind to check each stall before locking himself in the last one, reaching for his fly with shaking hands. 

_Merlin begging, Merlin desperate_

——————————————————

“Arthur, what?” Merlin said, letting himself be ushered away from their mingling friends into a silent room at the back of the house.

There, Arthur kissed him, breath catching like it hurt, ignoring Merlin’s flailing and sudden stillness. 

When he pulled away, Merlin’s eyes gleamed in the half-light, studying Arthur for a long, quiet moment. 

“Please,” Arthur whispered, unsure what he was asking for — aching and confused until

 _Merlin smiling, brushing his fingers over Arthur’s cheek._

_Merlin reaching behind him to lock the door._

_Merlin gently taking Arthur’s hand and sliding slowly to his knees._

* * *

**#38**  
 **Pairing(s):** Aredian/Cenred  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (781): Anyway, my grandfather thinks you're attractive ([x](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-10388.html))

“Anyway, my grandfather thinks you’re attractive,” Mordred yells to outcry the music. He takes a swig from his beer and winks at a dumbfound Cenred.

“I have so many questions I won’t pose a single one,” Cenred manages finally. Does he know Mordred’s grandfather? Is said grandfather at the party? Why is Mordred privy to such information and, above all, what brings Mordred’s grandfather to a horny adolescents’ party? Cenred looks around, half-expectant to see a jolly old man in a Hawaiian shirt.

“You boys know how to party, hm?”

Cenred hasn’t noticed when Mordred has gone away. He turns to see the owner of the unfamiliar voice talking to him. Leaning against the wall stands a middle-aged man dressed in tight jeans and unbuttoned dark shirt with sleeves rolled up; little is left to the imagination. Cenred swallows. The man is almost as tall as him, Cenred has probably only a centimetre or two on him. This is totally not happening. “Let me guess, you must be Mordred’s grandfather,” he says instead.

The man gives him a wicked smile and extends a hand. “Aredian.” He introduces himself. Cenred takes the offered hand. Aredian has a strong grip. In the mixed light Cenred cannot tell if Aredian’s hair and close-trimmed beard are completely white or they still retain some of their natural colour. He’s been originally blond or ginger once. Aredian is very handsome – the tell-tale signs of his age only add an air of maturity to his strong presence, to which Cenred cannot help but feel attracted to.

“Cenred.” 

Less than five minutes later they’re desecrating Mordred and Percy’s bed. Aredian is leaning back against the pillows; his hand has unbuttoned Cenred’s jeans and palms and teases Cenred’s cock through the fabric of his boxer shorts. Cenred is on his knees and forearms, thrusting his hips against Aredian’s indulging hand. He’s tongue-deep into Aredian’s mouth, and the way Aredian sucks his tongue and kisses back does little to silence Cenred’s whimpering. 

A deft finger circles around the slit of his cock, rubbing it every now and then. It sends his hips jolting and he is unable to suppress the high-pitched whines of pleasure that bubble in the back of his throat. He’s a mess – he knows as much – and he’s so horny he feels faint; all he wants to do is thrust into Aredian’s hand until he comes.

Aredian squeezes Cenred’s cock and the latter breaks their kiss with a gasp. He takes a deep breath – if Aredian goes on like this… He grinds the whole of his length against Aredian’s palm. The initial pleasure quickly builds up and shoots through his cock; he’s really close. Aredian takes the hint. “You want to come, boy?” He teases. He plants his other hand on Cenred’s chest and pushes him up until Cenred’s back is arched and he’s on his wide-spread knees. He takes the end of his tee between his teeth, and is pleased to see Aredian biting his bottom lip.

Aredian hooks his index finger in the waistband of Cenred’s underwear and pulls it; Cenred’s cock jolts up and Aredian lets go of the fabric to pin it in place. He gives his hand a thorough lick and palms Cenred, eliciting small, needy noises from him. He rubs the heel of his hand over the length of Cenred’s cock, making sure that the wet of his palm will slide over the head. Cenred tosses his head back and moans. “That’s it,” Aredian purrs. He shoves Cenred’s cock back into his underwear and starts rubbing his palm against its length. “Come on, cream your pants for me, boy. That’s a good boy, there…”

Cenred grabs Aredian’s hand to steady it and grinds against it. The feeling is incredible; in a few seconds he’s coming hard, pleasure shooting through him. He’s a good boy, he’s creamed his pants – he can feel the warmth of his come soaking his underwear, and it only makes him grind harder. Aredian murmurs something soft and sweet.

Cenred groans and slumps forward. He’s too sated to care that Mordred’s very attractive grandfather has given him a handjob. First comes returning the favour.

* * *

**#39**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s): masturbation, phone sex, they aren't lovers just roommates**  
 **Text Chosen:** (702): My cousin is passed out in my room, so I just masturbated in my walk-in closet. Apparently I get off on danger. Make note of that.

The slick sound of flesh hitting flesh through the phone was enough to have Arthur bolting upright on the couch and nearly dash from the room to get away from his relatives.

“ _Mer_ lin,” he gritted out, retreating to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“ _Watching porn,_ ” came the simple answer. “ _Or, I was until you called._ ”

Rather than demand Merlin close his laptop for five minutes and listen to the reason Arthur called, Arthur licked his lips, looked around, and asked, “Care to tell me exactly what you’re watching that has you unable to take your hand off your dick at the sound of my voice?”

A soft groan sounded through the speaker. “ _I’ve been browsing and edging for the last hour. At this point, pretty much everything is only going to make my problem harder._ ”

Arthur headed straight for the stairs and took them two at a time in the rush to get to the complete privacy of his bedroom. Already, his cock was starting to swell with interest.

“Including the idea of me being your temporary porn replacement?”

Merlin let out a shaky sigh. “Especially _the idea of you being my porn replacement._ ”

Mouth open to respond, Arthur froze as he opened the door to his bedroom. 

There was someone already in his room, on his bed. And not just any someone, but his cousin, Morgause. She had disappeared earlier, claiming she was going to pop some sleeping pills to nip her jetlag in the bud to prevent it from interfering with the family’s holiday. And here she was curled up under his blankets, sleeping soundly.

“ _…Arthur?_ ” The teasing confidence had gone from Merlin’s voice at Arthur’s prolonged silence. 

“Sorry. Just…” Arthur looked around and spotted his walk-in closet. Glancing back at Morgause, he hoped the pill she took was strong enough to keep her dead to the world and strode toward his closet. “Keeping talking to me for a minute?”

A breathy chuckle whispered in his ear, sending shivers through his shoulders.

“ _About what? How I’ve been looking through gifs of men grinding for the last five minutes? I’ve discovered I’m particularly fond of the ass to cock grind myself._ ”

Arthur shut the closet door behind him a bit harder than intended and nearly stumbled into a rack of clothes in his haste to move his laundry basket out of the way to provide himself with a muffled corner to hide in.

“ _Or maybe you’d rather hear about how I’m leaking so bad my thighs are uncomfortably wet and Arthur, you have no idea how weird that feels._ ”

Arthur abruptly sat down, his zipper only halfway undone, thanks to his knees no longer being strong enough to support him.

“Jesus Christ,” Arthur cursed, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye as he rode out the abrupt wave of _want_ that coursed through him. He finished pulling himself out and gave his cock a single squeeze to help bring it to complete hardness. “Tell me about some of the really good ones.”

“ _Hmm, let’s see…Oh, there’s this one where the guy on top has his arms wrapped around the other guy’s torso from behind and he’s just rutting into the other guy like –_ ” Merlin’s breath hitched. “ _—completely animalistic. He looks a bit like you, actually. And the other guys is squirming, a really good squirming—_ ”

“Do you wish it was me?” Arthur interrupted, swallowing down the heat that was flooding through him at the thought.

It was now Merlin’s turn to curse. Arthur bit his lip as he listened to the words die away into heavy panting and he began to pump himself in earnest.

“You do, don’t you? You wish it was me behind your right now. Holding you. Grinding into you like I was trying to fuck you—”

Merlin’s breathing grew into groans and strained cries that were constantly cut off only to start again. Shit, Merlin was coming. Coming to the thought of Arthur.

Arthur’s hand sped up and his lips parted as he did his best to stay silent so he could listen to his roommate ride through the waves of his orgasm. The sounds pushed him to the edge far faster than he was used to, and he was left teetering there, fighting with himself for that small push needed to tip the balance.

“Come on,” he gritted out. “Please, please, please…”

It was Merlin who came to his rescue. A choked out “ _Arthur,_ ” was spoken with the last vestiges of his orgasm and was all Arthur needed to send his cock pulsing and seed splashing.

For a long moment afterwards, they remained quiet, trying to gather their wits. It was Arthur who broke the silence.

“So, I just masturbated in my walk-in closet.”

He had every intention of explaining _why_ , but that would apparently have to wait until Merlin was done laughing.

* * *

**#40**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwaine/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** this one. 

***

Merlin has never really understood the big deal about handjobs. Sure they’re cool, but frankly, sometimes his own hand does a better job. 

Merlin is revising that opinion.

“What are you _doing_ ,” he hisses, and turns his face to look out the window at the scenery flashing past. 

“Nothing,” Gwaine says serenely, and then patently disproves that by slowly sliding down the zipper of Merlin’s jeans, making sure to brush against the entirety of Merlin’s dick while he does so. 

“This is - you can’t - ” Merlin starts, but Gwaine shushes him with a small kiss. 

“You were complaining about how you’re too tired to get off recently,” Gwaine says in a low voice, straight in Merlin’s ear. Merlin shudders. “I bet I can get you off anyway.” 

He’s been torturing Merlin since they got on this bloody train, touching Merlin everywhere, light brushes against his thighs and neck, leaning in to whisper things in his ear, his beard scratching against Merlin’s jaw. 

“Fuck,” Merlin says, a little too loud because the woman sitting across the aisle from them looks over disapprovingly. 

Gwaine shoots her a charming smile and then turns back towards Merlin. He slides his dick over the waistband of his boxers, up under his tshirt. He’s leaning forward, blocking the view from the aisle, but still. They’re on a _train_.

“Gwaine…” is as far as he gets before Gwaine rolls his eyes, takes Merlin’s dick in his hand and starts stroking. It feels fucking amazing. 

Gwaine has great hands, big and strong, just the right kind of calluses on his fingertips. Merlin has a type, he can acknowledge that, and Gwaine fits it pretty much to a t. 

“You couldn’t have done this last night?” Merlin asks, gritting his teeth and thrusting up a little into Gwaine’s grip. His fingers are doing amazing things to the head of Merlin’s dick. 

“More fun like this,” Gwaine says, grinning. His face is so close to Merlin’s and Merlin wants to kiss him, but that would only draw more attention. Fuck. Trust his distressingly gorgeous flatmate to finally jump him when Merlin can’t climb all over him like he wants to. 

Gwaine starts stripping Merlin’s cock faster, and Merlin is getting close, it’s been too bloody long, and he’s about ten seconds away from coming when Gwaine _stops_.

Merlin’s eyes fly open. 

“No, wait, why - ” he protests, and then he realises the train isn’t moving and people are standing and moving in the aisles. Gwaine tucks Merlin’s coat around him a little and sits back, pretending to read his newspaper, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. 

Merlin truly hates him.

Once they’re moving again, Gwaine folds the paper and leans forward again, shielding Merlin with his body.

“I hate you,” Merlin breathes as Gwaine starts jerking him off again, somehow keeping the movement subtle enough to not look suspicious as hell, but still feel amazing on Merlin’s cock. 

Gwaine grins and leans in to kiss Merlin’s neck lightly. “I know,” he replies. 

It only takes another minute or so for Merlin to come, biting his lip against the sounds that want to burst out. He slumps back into his seat, feeling lazy and sleepy. Gwaine wipes his hand on the inside of Merlin’s t-shirt, gross, and then sits back, grinning. 

Merlin stares at him for a long moment before he realises something. 

“I have to go to work in this fucking shirt!” he hisses, punching Gwaine on the arm. 

The train slides to a halt at Gwaine’s stop (how are they here already?) and Gwaine stands. 

“Packed you a spare in your bag,” Gwaine says. He leans down and kisses Merlin square on the lips. “I’ll see you back home,” he adds, with a wink that leaves Merlin in no doubt of what is going to happen when he gets home later. Gwaine hops off the train.

It’s only now that he’s gone, and Merlin actually realises that he just had sex on public transport _during peak hour_. Jesus. His mother would have some cutting things to say about his current life choices. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket. 

**To: Gwaine  
If I ever go to jail it will be because of you, I can feel it.**

**From: Gwaine  
You love it.**

Merlin kind of does.

* * *

**#41**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None apply  
 **Text Chosen:** "I went out to have a smoke, and next thing I know, he's got me bent over a picnic table praying to deities I don't believe in. You should have been there."

**Gods I Don’t Believe In**

Merlin had closed the door on Morgana’s party and lit his cigarette before he realized he wasn’t alone in the massive Pendragon House garden.

“You’re one of Gana’s friends from work,” a voice drawled from the far corner of the patio. 

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed, giving his name again. “You?”

A flare of light briefly lit a blond fringe. A snort cut the darkness. “Brother. Arthur. We met earlier. Escaping all that relentless heteronormativity in there.”

“Big words for a uni student,” Merlin said. They smoked in silence for a moment, until the man flicked his carelessly into the grass.

“I’ve finished my degree, I’ll have you know,” he said. Merlin’s eyes began to adjust, and the outline of Morgana’s very fit younger brother appeared. 

“Relax, it’s a great party, and they’re not all straight,” he said, walking over to put his fag out in the ashtray on the picnic table around the side of the patio. “Go find someone to dance with or something.”

“You offering?” Arthur asked.

Merlin leaned against the table, considering for a moment. He wasn’t used to someone quite so hostile being quite so forward. Suddenly he found Arthur not an inch from him. “I don’t dance,” Merlin finally answered.

“I don’t want to dance anyway,” Arthur said, sliding a hand along Merlin’s side to press into the small of his back. He leaned closer to Merlin, and breathed along his jaw. “This okay?”

He didn’t answer, but turned his head to catch Arthur’s lips for a kiss. It didn’t feel like their first, and Merlin hoped it wasn’t the last. Arthur sucked his lip and Merlin moaned, breaking the silence. 

Merlin tugged Arthur’s red shirt lose from his jeans and slid his hands up to pinch at Arthur’s nipples. Arthur crowded between Merlin’s legs and pressed his hard, denim covered cock against him. One of them gasped; it didn’t matter who. Arthur reached down to cover the lump in Merlin’s trousers, and Merlin slid his hands around the rounded globes of Arthur’s arse, wondering for a moment when Arthur’s jeans had been undone. 

“Want to fuck you,” Arthur panted, punctuating his statement with a thrust from his hips. “Or fuck me, I don’t care,” he added.

“Yeah, yeah, good, yes,” Merlin agreed, and suddenly his belt was undone and Arthur’s hands were past his trousers and in his pants. Merlin was harder than he ever remembered being. Arthur produced a condom and packet of lube from God knew where. Merlin found himself turned around, his trousers down to his knees and his pants pushed just down far enough. Arthur kneeled, parted Merlin’s arsecheeks and licked into his hole like it was his goddamned _job_. Merlin went weak in the knees and sagged against the top of the picnic table. Arthur slid one lubed finger, then two fingers, in beside his tongue, working Merlin open. 

Merlin felt empty, wanton, needy. He coveted Arthur’s cock, and found himself praying aloud to be given it. Finally, he just begged.

“Fuck me, oh God, fuck me, please!” he all but cried, and Arthur did. He fed inch by glorious fat inch of that golden cock into Merlin’s needy hole, soothing the ache he’d created. 

He didn’t stop there. He fucked him slow, holding him down on the table until Merlin was a begging, crying mess, and then he fucked him fast, jerking his dick until Merlin cried out to all the gods that he was Arthur’s, his alone.

And then Merlin came. 

Hot white spurts of cum covered the picnic table, and Arthur pulled out, careful of Merlin becoming too sensitive. Merlin turned and dropped to his knees, and Arthur grasped his head and fucked his mouth, finally cumming down his throat in pulses that made him cry Merlin’s name.

After a few minutes, Merlin stood. “You look wrecked,” he said.

“You’ve no room to talk, Merlin. We can’t go back in like this. Gana will kill us.”

“Better not risk it,” Merlin agreed. 

“Come up to my old room, first, so we can get cleaned up,” Arthur said.

Merlin kissed him.

“Or maybe we can get to know each other better,” Arthur amended. 

They never did make it back to the party. When Gwen asked Merlin the next day whether he’d disappeared with Morgana’s brother, Merlin’s return text said it all.

* * *

**#42**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/ Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Could be read as dub-com, but it's really Arthur issuing a challenge and Merlin taking him up on it.  
 **Text Chosen:** “ I think you’d know by now that my dick does absolutely whatever the fuck it wants to and I have no control of the situation” 

=======

Merlin glared at the model. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” 

The guy – Arthur? – glanced up, ”A favour.” He shrugged and spread himself out, his rigid dick bobbing merrily. “This pose ok?” He arched an eyebrow and smirked like nothing was up.

“You can’t… I can’t let my students and the observer come into the classroom with you at full mast! This is my job, you twat.” 

“What, this little thing?” Arthur said, casually trailing his fingers down his erect cock. 

Merlin swallowed. “Fine,” he said. “If you won’t do anything, I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare touch me.” Arthur said in a low voice, a challenge in his eyes. 

“Try me.” 

“If you lay one finger on me, I’ll sue you for assault.” 

Merlin’s temper flared... _Challenge accepted_ , he thought, leaning into Arthur’s personal space.

“Go on then,” he said as he wrapped his hand around Arthur’s dick. 

Arthur’s gaze locked on Merlin, emotions playing across his handsome face. Was Arthur daring him? _Game on, arsehole._

Merlin tightened his grip and squeezed experimentally; he couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. His students and school inspector were waiting just outside the door. The thought made a cold sweat trickle down his back, which only fuelled his own arousal. 

Arthur’s cock was thick and warm to touch, a little shorter than Merlin’s own but wider in girth. 

He ran his thumb down the vein on the underside, eliciting another small gasp from Arthur. Merlin thumbed Arthur’s slit, trying to get him to make the noise again. 

Still Arthur didn’t move. He leant back to allow Merlin space. _I’ll show you, you fucker,_ Merlin thought to himself. He swung one jean-clad leg over Arthur’s nude frame, straddling him. Merlin grinned down at Arthur, renewing his hold on the gorgeous cock in front of him.

“Bastard,” Arthur huffed under his breath.

Merlin arched over Arthur, his weight braced on one arm. He could see Arthur’s flared nostrils and dilated eyes, and smell his musky scent. Arthur’s breathing was rapid, and Merlin was sure he was panting too. 

The pulse and heat of Arthur’s cock, and pre-cum on Merlin’s fingers, was making his own cock was take interest; Merlin shifted his weight to ease the pressure. 

“What…? Argh!” Merlin shouted. 

Arthur suddenly pulled Merlin down over him completely, giving him a faceful of Arthur’s jaw up close, and a spectacular sensation of Arthur’s chest. _Oh my god oh my god._

“Shhh, Merlin, they’ll hear you,” Arthur purred into Merlin’s ear, his breath tickling and arousing him no end. Arthur licked the shell of his ear. “Keep moving, Mer-lin. Don’t stop now.” 

Merlin resumed his pace, his grip tightening slightly in retaliation. His groin pushed into Arthur’s muscular thigh and he groaned. The simulation of Arthur’s tongue, the feel of him so near and his hand on Arthur’s cock –- what the hell, was Merlin in a wet dream? 

They rocked together, gaining momentum.

Merlin was now using both hands on Arthur. It was sloppy and the rhythm stuttered and picked up. Merlin’s heart was already pounding, but loud knocking on the door and youthful voices made him even more frantic. His students were right outside but they couldn’t stop now, not when he was so close. He moved one hand down and cupped Arthur’s balls before running a finger further back and over Arthur’s hole.

Arthur gave a surprised sort of yelp and came all over Merlin’s jeans.  
The sight of it tipped Merlin over the edge. 

He slumped onto Arthur in a mess of tangled limbs and come. 

Arthur looked up at him, smirking even though blissed out. “Took care of two things after all. You might want to get cleaned up.”

* * *

**#43**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Dub-con (drunkenness/challenge), swearing (a lot of it)  
 **Text Chosen:** "I'm just going to superglue mistletoe to my forehead and see what happens."

 

Merlin doesn’t know who came up with the splendid idea to attach a sprig of mistletoe to his head. It wasn’t him, that’s for certain, and the whole thing stinks of Gwaine, but the arsehole in question adamantly claims his innocence. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter, because basically everyone at this party is drunk enough not to remember a thing tomorrow. Too bad for them, who have to spend their train ride home being anxious about bad drunken decisions.

But not Merlin. He’s not going home this year. Some people think it’s sad to stay at uni over the holidays, but Merlin thinks it’ll be nice. It’ll be quiet and calm and he’ll eat a lot of chocolate and sleep in, and fine, yeah, maybe he’ll study a bit, too. Maybe. His mum is abroad with her new boyfriend, and Merlin would be bitter about it if she hadn’t been so damned happy. Instead, he’s looking forward to spending the £20 she sent him on Only Unhealthy Things.

This party wasn’t really what he had planned from the beginning, but – as it turns out – it is impossible to argue with Gwaine, Lance, and Gwen when they’ve decided on something. He still has to figure out who was the mistletoe instigator, though. He’s already got several wet and sloppy kisses from drunk girls who hope to “turn” him.

It won’t work, though. Merlin prefers boys. Always have, always will.

This year, he has been staring an awful lot at the neck of his psychology classmate. Blond, classically handsome with broad shoulders – and he’s fucking hot like a race car engine. Sadly, he’s also the university tease, and every single guy or girl he dates, he drops after a week or two. But Arthur never is left along for long. Everyone either wants to be him or do him.

Merlin – naturally – wants to do him.

Right now, he desperately hopes that either 1.) Arthur isn’t here, or 2.) Arthur is already so drunk he won't remember that Merlin is wandering around with a mistletoe glued to his hair.

Filling up his plastic cup with disgustingly lukewarm beer, Merlin tries to sneak out of the party hall to leave when he runs into someone. Since it’s Christmas and Merlin always seems to end up on the wrong end of sod’s law, of course it’s Arthur. 

Arthur is now also... quite wet.

“Oh,” Merlin says. “That was my beer.”

“’Oh’,” Arthur mimics, “’That was my shirt.’”

“You’re a dick.”

“You’re–” Arthur interrupts himself. “Is that mistletoe?”

Merlin glances up. “Yes,” he says and tries to tug it loose, but _fuck it_ , it hurts. “It’s not–”

That’s as far as he gets, because that’s when Arthur kisses him. Merlin’s heartbeat pounds in his ears and when it’s over they stare at each other – one incredulous, the other smug.

“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted since the day you saw me?” Arthur says, smirking, like the prick he is.

In a complete and uncharacteristic lack of self control, Merlin answers, “No, but it’s a good start,” and pushes at Arthur’s chest until he backs into the corridor wall. If this is the only chance Merlin gets...

Another kiss. It’s hurried, desperate, without finesse. Nice, though.

They find an unlocked supply closet, and when the door snaps shut behind them, Merlin doesn’t waste any time.

“Knees,” he says. “If you’re more than just a tease, that is.”

It’s mean, doing that. Offering up a challenge that Arthur can’t back down from. These athletic types are all the same, Merlin thinks. So unwilling to lose, they’ll do anything. 

There’s a sharp tug on his belt and Arthur sinks to his knees before him. “It was just to tease _you_.”

And damn it if Merlin doesn’t get hard at that, and damn it if Arthur actually turns out to be more than just a bit talented at sucking cock, and damn it if he isn’t a bit loud in this situation, too, just like he is in class. His moaning and licking and sucking make everything Merlin feels secondary, somehow, even though he’s the one getting the blowjob.

He comes onto Arthur’s shirt. Too soon. Arthur has to get himself off, muttering swearwords while he does. Then he comes on Merlin’s shoe and trouser leg.

It takes a while to recover, at least for Merlin. Arthur kisses him lazily, again and again until he responds.

“I need to...” Merlin breathes, “... thank someone for the mistletoe.”

“You really do.”

* * *

**#44**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Ifntoxication and alcohol usage  
 **Text Chosen:** "This is a drunk text message. I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower." and "He took off my shirt and said 'oh my god the legends are true'." and "Just tried calling my phone on my phone because i thought i lost my phone."

_HELP_

_HELPPP_

_GWEN HELP_

_What’s going on? Are you okay?_

Merlin considered this question, glancing over at the naked man sprawled out on the bed beside him. Then he quickly turned away, his back to his sleeping bedmate, and continued to text furiously.

_NO. NOT OK. ARTHUR IS HERE._

_Was he a good shag?_

_GWEN_

_Was he?_

_I DON’T KNOW_

_Yeah you were pretty sloshed._

And then,

_Check your sent texts._

With a feeling of dread, Merlin scrolled back up to take a look.

 _This is a drunk text message,_ he read. _I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower._

—

“Gwen…. Gwen’s… a great girl, friend…. Not girlfriend, just... friend girl, friend,” Merlin explained to Arthur and his entourage of attractive male athletic-types. “She has a dog, and I love dogs! Only hers is….” He trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hands.

“Small?” suggested one. 

“Yes! Yes, but more… that.”

“Miniature?” offered Arthur, and Merlin clapped his hands.

“Yes! It’s _miniature!_ How do you spell ‘miniature?’”

—

_You also told me you were trying to call your phone with your phone because you thought you lost your phone._

“Shit,” Merlin said aloud, then froze, because the body next to him began to move. He watched as Arthur opened his eyes blearily, saw Merlin, and—

“ _Merlin?_ ” 

“…Yes.”

“We didn’t…” Arthur trailed off.

“I don’t remember.”

“Shit.”

“Shit?”

“Yes, shit.”

“Well, it’s your fault.”

Arthur sat up sharply. “ _My_ fault? You’re the one who appeared in _my_ bloody bed. How is it _my_ fault?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because someone decided it would be funny to arrange a tutoring session at a bar without telling his tutor that it was a bar.”

Arthur scoffed. “Maybe if the tutor hadn’t decided to get totally pissed—”

“And tutoree! You were just as drunk—”

“Tutoree isn’t even a word.”

“So _that’s_ what you want to talk about?” Merlin accused. “We just woke up bloody _naked_ in your _bed_ , and you want to talk about me making up a word?”

Arthur dropped back down onto the mattress and covered his face with his hands, making an irritated noise. “There’s a coffeemaker down the hall if you want some. Just go and… caffeinate.” 

Admittedly, coffee sounded really good.

—

_is arhtur a horny drink????_

Merlin hit send. When a minute had passed and Gwen hadn’t replied, he sent her another text.

_cus i thnk he is_

Another minute.

_u said he was bi rihgt?_

—

Merlin was almost finished with his coffee when Arthur came out of the shower, dripping and half-naked. Merlin averted his eyes, and if Arthur noticed, he didn’t say anything—just turned his back to Merlin and poured himself some coffee. It was easy to tell that Arthur was an athlete, Merlin thought. His shoulders alone—

Merlin looked away forcefully. 

As if sensing his gaze, Arthur glanced back, staring at Merlin for half a second before returning to his coffee.

“What?” Merlin asked challengingly. Arthur shrugged at the cabinet.

“Nothing,” he said, “just, you’re… uh… wearing my shirt.”

—

“Fuck, your shirt—”

“Yeah, I know, I know—”

“Take it—”

“ _I know_.”

The shirt disappeared. 

“So the legends are true…” Merlin mumbled, staring at Arthur’s chest. Arthur snorted, and then suddenly there was a mattress against Merlin’s back, and Arthur was on top of him, and it was a little hard to breathe but he didn’t care, because Arthur’s hand was in his pants and it was _amazing_.

“ _Fuck_ …” he groaned. Arthur’s lips moved to cover his in a sloppy kiss, wet and open. A few minutes passed, and the combination of Arthur’s mouth, the fantastic hand job, and the fact that this was _Arthur_ , in bed with him, in real life, had Merlin coming sooner than he would admit in the morning. 

When he’d recovered somewhat, he grabbed Arthur’s shoulder and sat up. “You’re not….” He gestured at the bulge in Arthur’s jeans. “You know.”

“How observant of you, _Merlin_.”

Merlin reached for the button on Arthur’s jeans. “Well, I can fix that.”

—

“I should probably go,” Merlin said, finishing the last of his coffee.

Arthur seemed to have been watching Merlin’s lips and throat as he swallowed. “Uh, yeah. Probably a good idea.”

“Yeah….”

They stayed where they were, Merlin at the table and Arthur standing next to the counter. There was a long silence.

“Yeah….”

In the end, Merlin didn’t leave. They kissed instead.

* * *

**#45**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** N/A  
 **Text Chosen:** (225): Like I'm getting finger banged and my family is making cookies in the kitchen. Talk about terrifying

Merlin giggled slightly hysterically at the situation he was currently in. 

He was bent over a desk in his mother's den with his pants around his ankles and his arse full of Arthur Pendragon's lubed fingers. 

"Jesus-fuck--," Merlin was having trouble keeping his appreciation of this situation at bay. 

Arthur Pendragon was the son of his mother's boss. This could literally lead to nothing but trouble but dammed if he would stop it at this point. Uther Pendragon, aforementioned boss, and Arthur were over visiting Hunith, aforementioned mother, to conduct some Christmas festivities. Right now, as Merlin was feeling Arthur slip in a third finger, his mother and her boss were making cookies in the kitchen blissfully unaware. 

He and Arthur had been eye-fucking across parties and get-togethers for months. All it took was Arthur finally introducing himself with that better-than-you smirk and those pretty bedroom eyes for Merlin to know it was finally time to make a move. It hadn't taken much persuasion to get Arthur to the den under the guise of watching a Christmas movie. 

Merlin's mobile vibrated with a text on the desk in front of him and Merlin rushed to catch it in case it was his mother. 

**Hey Merls! How's the xmas stuff goin?**

Merlin's heart slowed, it was just Gwen. If Arthur had noticed Merlin's slight panic he didn't show it, he continued to finger Merlin and started peppering biting kisses on the backs of his thighs. 

**Ttyl. In a situation.**

He sent the message and realized it would make Gwen worry and decided to elaborate. 

**Like I'm getting finger banged and our families are making cookies in the kitchen. Talk about terrifying.**

Merlin giggled again, satisfied with the message he sent and the reaction he was sure to receive, and put down his phone. At this, Arthur had finally decided to talk for the first time since he had pulled Merlin's pants down and bent him over the desk. 

"You know, Merlin, if you'd rather be somewhere else I can surely stop," He said with a raised eyebrow. Merlin looked back at him and smiled a bit evilly. 

"Awwww. Is someone jealous?" Merlin fought back a grin at the light blush that showed on Arthur's cheeks at his comment. Arthur stood up, still pounding his fingers inside of Merlin, and pressed his body against his back with his face in Merlin's neck. 

"What if I was?" Merlin shivered at the roughness in Arthur's voice and the breath that had been on his neck. God, this was going to drive him insane. 

Arthur removed his fingers and finally began removing his jeans. Merlin whined a bit at the emptiness but he was getting pretty tired of all this preparation and was ready, _so fucking ready_ , for the real thing. 

He heard a rip of a condom opening and groaned in anticipation. Arthur leaned down to whisper to him again. 

"Are you ready, love?" He mouthed against Merlin's neck and pushed his cock, so slowly, into him.  
Merlin arched his back and let out a strangled gasp. He felt hot all over. Arthur waited a bit then finally, _finally_ , began pounding into Merlin. 

_Oh. God._

It felt wonderful to be so _full_. 

Arthur grabbed Merin's jaw and gently pulled him into a soppy kiss. Merlin almost laughed at how the blond was treating him as if he was fragile. Arthur must have seen his face because he pulled back and slammed into Merlin. They both moaned rather loudly at the contact and Merlin nearly came when Arthur covered his mouth with his hand. 

"You. Need. To. Shut. _Up_." Arthur accented each of his words with and hard thrust. Merlin moaned at every word and was rewarded with a tight squeeze from Arthur's hand still on his mouth. 

He felt Arthur bite into his shoulder and came all over the wood of the desk as Arthur came inside of him. 

He laid his head on the coolness of the wood and felt Arthur slip out of him. They both winced. He lifted his head and turned around and saw Arthur wrap the condom in a tissue and put it in the pocket of his jeans he was now wearing again. Merlin sighed and pulled his pants up as well, fearing for the awkwardness that would most definitely ensue. 

Arthur used a tissue to wipe up the mess on the desk and grabbed Merlin's mobile, typing something in.

"Here's my number. Happy Christmas and all that," Arthur blushed, in what Merlin assumed was a rare show of shyness, and walked up the stairs towards the kitchen. 

Merlin grinned. Happy Christmas indeed.

* * *

**#46**  
 **Pairing(s):** lady orgy featuring: Freya, Gwen, Morgana, Vivian, Elena, Mithian, Morgause, and Sophia  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** (815): Girls only wine night turned into a sloppy drunk lesbian orgy again

Part 1:  
Freya sits on the sofa, sipping delicately at her wine. She watches as Morgause pins Sophia up against the wall and sucks her neck. Across the room, Mithian and Elena are rocking together on the floor. Elena's breasts have come out of her top and Freya watches, mesmerised, as they bounce up and down. On the chair beside them, Vivian is grinding on Morgana's lap, Morgana's hands fondling her ass.

This wasn't quite how she expected the evening to go. Granted, she had assumed her evening was going to be pretty sad before Morgana found her moping around the confectionary aisle in Tesco. After Morgana's initial blunder of “of course Merlin is dating Arthur, who doesn't know that?” she quickly back peddled and invited her to her bi-weekly 'book club', the quotation marks being key. Once they had gotten in the car, it was quickly explained that real book club had rapidly turned into girls only wine night and then the pretence had been dropped all together.

Another sip of wine and another glance around the room. Morgause had turned Sophia around so she was resting with her forehead on the wall. Maybe resting wasn't the best word for it, Freya acquiesced, as Sophia's moans seem to say otherwise. She watches, fascinated, as Morgause pulls a strap-on out of her purse like it's a perfectly normal thing to have lying about, and starts teasing the head around Sophia's entrance.

Freya tears her eyes away to look at the other couples but of course now it's turned into one big love pile on the floor; Elena kissing Vivian's neck, Vivian stroking Mithian from behind, Mithian with her head down in Morgana's lap. It's not fair, she thinks with another mouthful of wine. What are the protocols for this sort of thing? Even though you've been invited to a lesbian 'book club' orgy, how does one participate? Do you need an invitation to join a pairing? Can you walk over to a group and just dive in? What's the etiquette!? Freya crosses her legs, blood pulsing to her groin in an annoying fashion. She's half sexually frustrated and the other half just plain old frustrated and she's pretty sure you shouldn't be either of these things at an orgy.

She's got half a mind to just wank herself off and go home when her saving grace walks through the door in the form of Gwen Thomas. Lovely, sweet, innocent Gwen from her children's lit class who seems so out of place with the rest of them it's like watching a rainbow fish swim through a swamp of frogs. Not that frogs aren't nice, and the rest of the women in this room certainly aren't ugly, and maybe she's drunk because did she seriously just think of Gwen as a rainbow fish? They stare at each other hesitantly for a moment.

“I didn't know you were into book clubs,” Freya starts.

“My class got out late tonight,” says Gwen, as if it explains everything.

The silence is painfully awkward for all of five seconds before Gwen blurts, “want to make-out?”

“Oh thank god,” Freya responds, and just like that the tension is gone.

Gwen all but throws herself on the sofa and they scramble to get purchase on one another. As Gwen pulls her dress up over her head, Freya reflects that it's really a shame she wasted so many weeks with her stupid crush on Merlin when she could have focused all her attention on Gwen instead. Gwen with her lovely full breasts and her wicked tongue which is doing wonderful things to her mouth and promises absolutely fantastic things for her nether regions later.

She doesn't remember the exact moment they migrate to the floor, but really, it's not all that important. It's some time after Gwen has screamed her name and Freya's lips are wet and numb. There's someone holding her up from behind, their dark hair falling over her shoulders. There's a mouth attached to her right nipple, the tongue laving around it, pulling it into a peak. Her left hand reaches out blindly and finds someone's ass to knead and grip. There's two people at her feet, taking turns pressing kisses to the inside of her thighs and plunging their tongues inside her. Her right hand is buried deep in Gwen's hair. As her second orgasm of the night builds, she lets her head fall back and reflects on how glad she is that 'book club' needs qualifying quotation marks.

* * *

**#47**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warnings:** \--

Arthur's phone lit up with a message from Merlin. What are you wearing?, it asked. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, Is that your pathetic attempt at sexting me? 

Just play along, Merlin wrote, Say something sexy. 

Sexy sweat pants and a sexy sweatshirt. Arthur was not in the mood. In fact he was sitting on his couch next to his roommate, Leon. A horrible action flick, that Leon loved, played on their TV. 

You mean no underwear ;) cheeky, was Merlin's response. 

Arthur sighed and his phone buzzed again. 

Guess what I'm wearing. 

Not pants, Arthur replied. 

You wouldn't be getting this text if I was wearing pants.  
I'm wearing that jock we bought together and I have to say it feels amazing on my cock. 

"Are you two sexting?" Leon asked. 

"No." Arthur replied too defensively. His face had turned bright red when he read the last text.  
Arthur's phone shook in his hand as the next text came in, he refused to read it. "He's sexting me," he told Leon. 

Another faint buzzing noise from the phone. 

"Are you going to get that?" Leon asked, amused. 

"I figure he'll get bored and leave me-" Another text, "-alone." 

Arthur's phone buzzed three more times. 

"Maybe I should get that," Merlin was stubborn,he wouldn't stop texting him, and an orgasm  
was an orgasm. Leon laughed as Arthur scurried into his room, closing the door before looking at the now six messages. 

God I'm throbbing  
I've been hard since I was at work  
Now I'm playing with my arse  
God it feels good  
I like to pretend it's you touching me  
Want pics? 

Arthur sat down on his bed in defeat and got the bottle of lube out of his bedside table. Before he could reply yes or no there was a picture of Merlin's dick stretching against the tight  
material of the jock strap. 

You like? ;) 

Arthur took a second out of struggling out of his pants (he couldn't seem to fast enough) to reply Yes. 

Want more? 

Please. 

A picture of a red dildo slightly starting to push itself into Merlin's ass appeared on Arthur's phone screen. 

Now show me you, Merlin wrote. 

Arthur took a pump of lube in his right hand and started stroking his dick. He leaned into the wall to get a good angle. The picture featured his hard cock in hand and his sweatpants  
around his ankles. 

When Arthur sent the picture he had already gotten another from Merlin of the dildo shoved fully into his ass. 

Thinking of u, it was captioned. 

How would you fuck me right now? the next text from Merlin said. 

On your hands and knees, Arthur replied. 

Like this? Merlin had attached a photo of himself with his ass in the air and face in a pillow, the base of the red dildo still visible in his ass. 

Exactly, Arthur was typing with his left hand while his right slowly explored his dick in all the ways he knew Merlin would. And i would be rough I would hold you down and fuck you untill you were moaning and a screaming 

And i would fucking moan and scream, Merlin replied. 

And I would leave hickeys all over your shoulders 

Please 

Then i would sit up and make you grind on my dick 

Like this? Merlin attached a twenty six second clip of himself, dildo firmly held on the wood floor of his bedroom by his left hand, fucking himself on the dildo. As he bobbed up and down he moaned and begged "Please Arthur, please let me cum." 

Arthur let a small "Fuck," escape his lips as he watched the video. He took another pump of lube and rubbed the lube all over his cock then did his best to replicate Merlin's gyrating with his hand. 

Arthur sent Merlin a video punctuated by groans and sighs. 

I would cum inside you then lay you down on the ground and keep fucking you while i touch ur cock untill u cum 

Thru the jock 

Yea lightly until u cant take it anymore and your screaming my name 

like this? a text came a minute later, attached was a fifty seven second clip of Merlin laying on his floor touching himself through the jock moaning, "Arthur please. Please stop teasing me. I- I," Merlin's begging dissolved into moans as his he touched himself. "More Arthur," he demanded quietly seconds before his back arched and he groaned. 

Arthur quietly pumped himself for only a few seconds before he came. 

Still recovering from his orgasm he got a text that said, Now come over in an hour so you can really fuck me ;)

* * *

**#48**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Food porn, some swearing  
 **Text Chosen:** (873): I'm taking tokes in the bath tub, come if you want, I'm naked and you have to bring chicken nuggets or else you can't come in

New message from Merlin:  
 _I'm taking tokes in the bath tub, come if you want, I'm naked and you have to bring chicken nuggets or else you can't come in_

Well, I dropped everything didn't I? The lunch tray I was queuing with, the study group I was supposed to be meeting.

When I reached his place, clutching a greasy bag, I found he’d left the door latched. The flat smelt of his bergamot bath soak and a heavy layer of the sickly-sweet skunk he’d treated himself to last night, in honour of finishing his exams.

He sprawled on the bed like a dream. Naked, as promised, still wet from the bath. Pink and pale against burgundy sheets. His eyes were closed and his fingers played curiously over his mouth. He inhaled deeply through his nose and turned, inky lashes barely lifting from his red-raw eyes.

"Food?" He whispered, voice rough with smoke, and his ruddy lips gaped invitingly. His already pudgy penis lazed against his thigh.

My heart thundering, I scrambled to kick off my shoes and get to the bed. I knelt beside him and pulled out the box, laying it on the folded bag and opening it like a treasure chest, an offering.

He moaned when I placed the first nugget against his lips and his teeth sank into the juicy flesh. His sleepy eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched.

With my free hand I grazed his ribs, and briefly allowed myself to pet his warm, damp crotch. He nudged into me and sucked in the rest of the chicken piece, throat working as he swallowed it down.

"You're going to give yourself indigestion." I told him softly, selecting the next piece.

"Oh god, don't care..." He snapped his jaws at where my hand hovered just out of reach. He may have been too weak to sit up but he managed to lift his head far enough off the pillow to snatch the chicken from me, mumbling contentedly as he flopped back down to chew.

Merlin obviously wasn't vegetarian, but he never ate much meat, a combination of laziness and poverty he claimed, except when he got really stoned, then he would become a voracious carnivore, devouring burgers, sausages, anything that sat still long enough, but nuggets were his favourite. I’d have preferred to do him a nice bit of steak, but he wasn't interested. 

To be honest I loved him like this though, writhing in ecstasy as I hand fed him each golden morsel, and him sucking on my fingers so as not to waste any of the flavour...

A nip to my wrist broke my reverie and reminded me I had a job to do and a hungry boyfriend to serve.

He chomped down two more and I broke away to whip off my clothes and, in a moment of inspiration, slipped a couple of nuggets in the front of my pants, they were still warm and felt rough and weird, but not unpleasant. When he realised I was no longer feeding him and the box had disappeared he began snuffling around like a blind puppy, he even whined softly, it shouldn't have been so cute.

He rolled over and sniffed his way up my thigh until he found the extra bulge in my pants. His tongue snaked out and prodded first at the knobbly chicken, then my rock hard dick and then settled flat against my balls sending shivers up my spine. He stretched his mouth wide, glancing cheekily up at me, and attempted to fit his teeth around both balls and one of the nuggets where they nestled together in the thin fabric.

"Omnomnomnomnom," he mumbled into my crotch, sucking what he could into his wet mouth. It tickled, and stung a bit, but fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things I've ever seen that man do. When he ripped my pants off and had gobbled down the slightly squished chicken nuggets, he licked my dick and smacked his lips.

"Mmmaaarthur, you should always carry chicken in your pants," he said, "So you'll always taste and smell this fucking good..."

It was gross of course, not to mention more than a little unnerving letting him take my delicates between his chops when he was in this mood. Worth it every time though. 

I couldn't help wondering how he’d react if I could manage to get some chicken up my bum next time. After my final exam perhaps.

* * *


	3. Group C (warnings)

**#49**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** So I'm sitting here baked on a bridge thinking about how plants think, I miss you so much.

Merlin buried his face deeper into the pillow, his breath panting softly against the crisp crimson linen. A few feet away, the sunbeams slipped through the open window, the golden glow washing the king’s bedchamber in morning light.

“Arthur,” Merlin pleaded, daring to quirk one eye open long enough to see the first rays of a spring dawn break over Camelot, awakening the realm.

Arthur’s lips nipped hot at his neck, teeth grazing against the tender flesh beneath Merlin’s ear. Merlin reached up with one hand to tug at Arthur’s hair, urging him closer, begging Arthur’s lips to meet his own. Eye to eye, lips barely moving against each other in the slow dance of morning, Merlin lost himself in Arthur’s touch.

Beneath the sheets, Arthur’s cock split Merlin’s arse cheeks in two, eased only by what makeshift lube they convinced Gaius they needed for silencing a squeaking hinge. Merlin let his legs fall open, widening the space to allow Arthur to thrust at his own rhythm while the world outside their window burst alive with birdsong, each creature beginning the new day.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, hot slick seeping from his untouched cock.

“I’m here,” Arthur said, grasping Merlin’s bare hip with a sword-calloused hand.

Merlin whimpered as he felt Arthur tug him closer, breaching his hole again with his cock, Merlin’s sweat-glazed back against the warmth of Arthur’s chest. Merlin fell apart, taking care to remember the burn that filled him, flooding him with life, pushing out any despair that he had come to know.

“I’ve got you,” Arthur breathed, his hand crossing from Merlin’s hip to his belly, before taking his cock, hard and needy, into his hand.

After a few strokes from Arthur’s fist, the streets of the lower village came alive. Before long, bread was set to rise. Children shouted in play. The green bounty of a spring harvest was gathered for the day.

Merlin shuddered with his release. His sticky come trickled cool onto the sheets while wet tears of gratitude slid from his eyes to the pillow.

Murmuring for Merlin to hush, Arthur swept the tears away with his thumbs, replacing his touch with tender kisses to Merlin’s eyelids. Merlin choked back a sob as Arthur wrapped him in his arms, keeping him safe and protected against the intrusion of thoughts that threatened to disrupt Merlin’s peace.

He had barely taken another breath, when the sound of the alarm jolted Merlin awake. He shifted onto his knees, the rough concrete scraping the scabs of dried blood that marred his skin.

With one hand, he drew the phone from his pocket, confused because he didn’t recognize it. He couldn’t remember robbing the drunk of the device the night before. Somewhere on the streets, the phone’s owner cursed at his empty pockets. Merlin coughed out a wad of spit, tinged with the sting of smoky alcohol.

He tapped at the phone, silencing the alarm so it didn’t attract attention. Being picked up for vagrancy was the last thing he needed. He got to his feet and leaned against the side of the concrete bridge. The gray stone had been weathered for too long without repair. The chips of crumbling mortar fell to the ancient riverbed below where once a stream had run. In its place lay a broken bottle, the carcass of a dead bird, and a white Styrofoam cup.

Merlin shook his head when the alarm disappeared from the screen and the unfamiliar letters scrolled out. He underlined each word of the text with a crippled finger. He remembered tapping out the message, but he knew not the address for which it was destined.

Merlin sunk to the ground, shirt riding up, his back scraping against the rough concrete of the bridge. He set the phone down between his knees where the weeds had pushed through the veins in the cracked pavement. For a moment, he contemplated them, wondering how they could grow where no light could reach them.

Perhaps they too were waiting for his king to return to a broken Avalon.

* * *

**#50**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (503): I appreciate that you take the time to fix your typos even while masturbating 

Merlin (20:45): I changed my mind. I'll pretend to be your assistant, your PR guy, your shoe-shiner, your bodyguard. Anything. I just want to be with you.  
Merlin (20:46): Arthur, I'm sorry. I know this isn't easy for you. I know I need to be patient. I know you love me. I was an arse.

Arthur (22:16): You WERE an arse.

Merlin (22:17): I know. I know. I love you so much. Please forgive me.

Arthur (22:22): Maybe if you grovel. 

Merlin (22:25): You know I'd be on my knees in front of you in a heartbeat if I was there with you.   
Merlin (22:26): And you'd be naked.  
Merlin (22:26): Too soon?

Arthur (22:36): Don't start what you can't finish. I won't be back in the country for two weeks.

Merlin (22:37): Oh I can finish this. It's late. Surely you must have completed all your royal duties by now.  
Merlin (22:38): Are you alone?

Arthur (22:40): I'm not going to do this now.

Merlin (22:41): Send Lance and Gwen away. Give them the night off so at least someone can get laid tonight.

Arthur (22:45): Give me half an hour.

Merlin (22:46): No. I'm doing this now.  
Merlin (22:56): Arthur?  
Merlin (22:57): I'm horny.   
Merlin (22:57): And I'm on my knees in front of you. I'm taking your prick out. I'm wrapping my lips around it before you can do anything to stop me.

Arthur (22:59): Fuck. Fine, fine. They're gone.

Merlin (23:00): Are you hard? Because I'm licking around your prick right now to get it wet.   
Merlin (23:02): Are you touching yourself? Use some of that ridiculous lotion and get your cock really wet for me. Just like my mouth. Will you do that? I want to picture it. 

Arthur (23:03): Yes I'm hard. I've taken off my trousers. I'm on the bed.

Merlin (23:03): Pants too?

Arthur (23:04): Pants, too. And I have the 'ridiculous' lotion that I know you use when you stay over.

Merlin (23:05): I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation.   
Merlin (23:05): I'm putting as much of that perfect cock of yours in my mouth as I can fit. You're so big I'm nearly choking on it.   
Merlin (23:06): Hold it tight, because I'm sucking hard. Licking under the head when I come up for air. Right where you like it.   
Merlin (23:06): Can you picture it? Can you feel my hot, wet mouth on your cock?

Arthur (23:07): Keep going.

Merlin (23:08): You're so hard. Love the way you fill up my mouth. Love the way you taste.   
Merlin (23:09): I'm licking your balls now. Jerking you off with my hand. 

Arthur (23:10): I love it when you lick my balls.

Merlin (23:11): And when I lick down lower. Pushing my tongue against your taint. Licking over your hole.   
Merlin (23:11): Before putting my mouth back on your cock. 

Arthur (23:12): Tease.

Merlin (23:13): I'll rim you later. I just wanted a little taste. Your cock was getting lonely.

Arthur (23:13): It was.

Merlin (23:14): I'm taking it deep now. Sucking hard. Getting it so wet.  
Merlin (23:15): I love doing this for you. I love making you feel good. Your prick was made for my mouth.   
Merlin (23:17): Arthur?

Arthur (23:18): Hard to type with on hand.  
Arthur (23:18): *one

Merlin (23:19): I appreciate that you take the time to fix your typos even while masturbating. 

Arthur (23:19): Fuck off. I'm close. 

Merlin (23:20): Are you thinking about me between your legs right now? Pulling my hair. Pushing my head down to get deeper in my mouth. Hitting my throat with your big prick.  
Merlin (23:21): I can feel it throbbing against my tongue. I can feel your balls tightening in my hand.  
Merlin (23:21): I want you to come in my mouth. I want to feel you come down my throat.  
Merlin (23:22): Come for me, Arthur. I want you to come.

Arthur (23:23): Jesus.  
Arthur (23:25): Thank you for that, love.

Merlin (23:25): I wish I was there with you.

Arthur (23:26): You know once Morgana and Leon have the baby, the line will be officially continued with an heir, and there will be even less pressure on me to find a wife.

Merlin (23:27): You sure you're ready to come out?

Arthur (23:28): With you by my side, I am.

* * *

**#51**  
 **Pairing(s):** Mordred/Kara   
**Warning(s):** \--  
 **Text Chosen:** (270): Oh my god I found my bf's erotica 

“Wait,” he began softly, his voice thin, “I-I think we should stop.”

“Why?” she asked as she shifted in his lap, “You weren’t so hesitant to write about it.”

She lifted his work and let it fall beside her, taking his face in her hands and kissing him gently.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. No matter what you write,” she conceded softly, brushing his curly fringe away from his damp forehead. He was nervous, she knew.

“I… It’s not that I don’t, I’m-m just,” he tried to get out, eyes darting around anywhere but her own.

“Nervous?” she offered, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails.

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking down as he ran his hands up and her sides.

“Everyone’s nervous their first time. I was really nervous. We can do it just how you wrote,” she spoke softly into his cheek, her fingers trailing slowly down his chest and to his lap. She knew it started like this.

His breath stuttered when her fingers touched him and she looked up quickly.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered affirmatively. 

She unbuttoned and pulled the zipper of his jeans, exposing the front of his briefs. He shifted around as she pulled them away, taking a moment to read ahead a few lines as he leaned forward to fully remove them. She moved off his lap and nudged his legs apart, settling on her stomach and propping her head up with her hands. He looked more nervous than before, a bead of perspiration running down his temple, but she could see his penis stirring. She grinned.

“I’m, uh, sorry, I mean—” he stuttered endearingly but he cut off with a gasp as she kissed him over his boxers, delighting in the little wet spot already there. 

She pressed open mouth kisses along the shaft, letting one hand rest on his abdomen. 

“What’s next?” she asked with a wry smirk, knowing but wanting to hear.

“Um,” he continued, scrambling around for the stapled pages.

She continued smirking to herself; he knew what was next, too. She slowly pulled down his briefs, sitting up and pulling them to his ankles before settling back down.

“It says, um, you, uh—” 

“Blow you?” she suggested, keeping eye contact as she encircled his penis in her hand. He bit his lip.

“Well, I didn’t say it like—ah!”

His head made a dull thud against the wall as she sucked on the head gently, pressing little kisses to it. She continued to suck, stroking him up and down with her hand. He released pleasured sighs and gasps, his thumb rubbing her cheek. They soon became strained and she knew there was more to this section but she didn’t want him to come before they got to the good part. She released him, his penis erect and proud before her face.

“Ready?” she asked with a grin, glancing at the story but already knowing what was next. 

He nodded.

She stood up and removed her dress, giving him a chance to kick off his boxers and remove his shirt. He held her hand as she lowered herself into her knees, one on either side of his hips, his hands running over her thighs lovingly. She leaned sideways and grabbed her bag, pulling it over and rummaging around. He looked confused when she procured a tiny bottle of lubricant but she just shook her head, warming a drizzle between her hands before running them over his member.

“It’ll help,” she explained, not wishing to go into exact details at this moment. They hadn’t exactly done much foreplay. 

He bit his bottom lip again and she murmured an encouragement as she lowered herself slowly, steadying herself with a hand at his shoulder, the other guiding him gently. He breathed a gasp as she began to move and smiled when he glanced between her and their connected bodies, cheeks rosy.

“Here,” she began, urging him up and laying back, settling him between her legs, “just move.”

His thrusts were careful and he fumbled in rhythm a bit but she smiled nonetheless; it was his first time and she was more concerned that he enjoyed it. It didn’t take long for him to come and she hushed his apologies, passing a hand through his hair and giving him a firm kiss.

“Kudos-worthy?” she asked cheekily.

He laughed and curled beside her, pressing warm kisses to her cheeks and mouth.

“Comment-worthy. And definitely a reread.”

* * *

**#52**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (440): The ticket read "Found nude in a tree"

It was around 5am and they'd been called to assist when at a party where a fight had broken out. A swordfight, specifically. It was that kind of night.

By the time he and Leon arrived, the combatants were being read their rights and having their injuries tended. The place reeked of cannabis, but as it was a private adult party, they gave the residents a general warning and left it at that.

Arthur let out of a breath as he walked back outside. He might actually make it home by 7:30 if they didn't have any more arrests tonight.

Then he looked up and saw a nude man in a tree.

"Sir?" He called up. He clicked on his torch and shone the light into the branches. The man opened his eyes, then squinted and mumbled something unintelligible.

He heard Leon, leading one of the arrests, chuckle. "I'll leave this one to you." Arthur ignored him.

"Sir, are you intoxicated? Can you get down?" He was about fifteen feet up, not terribly high but enough to crack a few bones if he fell. 

The man tried to roll over. Arthur made an aborted move to catch him, but the man stayed put, blinking and peering down at Arthur. It looked like the branches had somehow twined around him. Arthur shook his head. It was probably the light playing tricks.

The man had wide blue eyes, generous lips, and dark hair, on his head and chest and - Arthur forced his eyes away, attempting to keep a professional demeanor.

"Hullo," the man called down. "Is that you, Arthur?"

Arthur was speechless for a moment, then he cleared his throat.

"Er, yes. This is Officer Pendragon." He tried to remember if this was one of their "frequent fliers" or some other acquaintance, but he couldn't place him. He did seem vaguely familiar though.

"Thank fuck," the man said. "I've been waiting forever."

This made no sense and also served to annoy Arthur. Drunken idiots expecting police to save them from their own stupidity usually did that.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to come down out of there now."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm too stiff still."

Arthur guessed this was a euphemism for "too drunk." 

"I'll have the fire department to come and put up a ladder," Arthur said, starting to walk away. 

"Wait!" The man yelped. "Arthur, don't leave me again!"

He paused. The man was stretching slowly, as if his wiry arms and legs really were stiff. He managed to push himself up to a sitting position, his legs dangling. Arthur took a few steps back toward the tree.

"Be careful," Arthur said, then, "What's your name?" It was bothering him that he couldn't remember.

"Merlin." He was smiling at Arthur, totally unconcerned at being stark naked in front of a policeman. He had nothing to be ashamed of, though. His cock was rather lovely, even soft. 

"Do you want me to climb up?" It was a stupid thing to say, completely against policy and common sense.

"No, no, your trousers look far too tight for that sort of activity." Merlin's eyes were dancing.

"Get your arse down here then, idiot."

He kept the flashlight on Merlin as he climbed down. It wasn't strictly necessary - but Merlin did have a great arse as well.

Merlin was a bit breathless by the time he was standing in front of him. So was Arthur. That feeling that he _knew_ Merlin was even stronger.

"Hi," Merlin said shyly. He didn't really seem like he was drunk. And then Merlin leaned up and kissed him, not shyly at all.

"Um," Arthur said, pulling back, his hands curling into Merlin's shoulders. "That's - we can't do that."

"Why not?" Merlin looked put out. "I've waited several hundred years for this."

"Hundred years?" Arthur was bewildered, and a bit - okay, he was a bit enthralled by this man with leaves in his hair who called him by his first name and wasn't at all intimidated by the uniform - but that didn't mean that he could just unbuckle his belt…

"Whoa! What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Merlin said, kneeling and Arthur put a hand against the tree to steady himself as Merlin tugged down his boxers and licked the crown of Arthur's penis.

"Are you real?" Arthur asked as Merlin swallowed around him. He wasn't sure of Merlin's reply but it felt like magic.

* * *

**#53**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur; Agravaine, Uther  
 **Warning(s):** none!  
 **Text Chosen:** x ; "(202): He's so far in the closet he's in Narnia"

“I owe Olaf a favour. Could you convince Arthur to take his daughter Vivian out on a date?”

Uther stares at him before breaking out into laughter. Agravaine almost has a stroke.

“Oh, that’s just...” Uther _hiccups_ , and Agravaine twitches. Dear Lord. Uther Pendragon showing emotion. It’s the apocalypse; it’s here now. Agravaine is certain of it.

“So, is that a yes?” he asks, always stoic in the face of adversity. “Because then—“

“No.” Uther is shaking his head, still smiling. “No, Agravaine. I’m sorry.”

“But why—“

“You’ll see. Just keep your eyes open.” Uther laughs again, but this time it sounds a little desperate, strained. “Or keep them closed. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose; you’ll see anyway.”

He waves Agravaine away.

Agravaine leaves, confused.

\--

Monday morning, he gets his first hint. Arthur is chasing a dark-haired, slim man down the corridor.

“ _Mer_ lin!” he bellows, eyes on the boy, zero focus for anything else. “I told you to come back _instantly_ —“

“Gwen needed help!” the boy splutters. “Lance called—“

“I don’t care if you fancy yourself the redeemer of love-sick souls, you are to answer to me immediately—“

“You’re my boss, not my slave-driver, you prat!”

There’s some more bickering and Arthur putting the boy in a headlock that Agravaine watches worriedly, before Arthur seems to realise that his uncle is actually there. He straightens, flushing, lets the boy out of the headlock. 

“Uncle, this is Merlin, my PA,” he says calmly. The boy, Merlin, squints at Agravaine and mimics Arthur cheekily: “Mr de Bois, this is the prat, your nephew. My apologies for that.”

Before Agravaine can answer, Arthur calls Merlin a clotpole, Merlin stomps on his foot, Arthur threatens him with a slap, Merlin runs off—

and Arthur runs right after him.

Agravaine stares after them. Later, Morgana, clarifies things for him: “Yes, they’re always like that. It would actually be cute if Arthur wasn’t so far in the closet he’s in Narnia, you know?” 

\-- 

She’s _right_. Agravaine, former believer of Arthur’s heterosexuality, is now converted, having witnessed the ridiculous amount of the boys’ bickering, their constant flirting. The worst is, Arthur doesn’t even _realise_ he’s doing it:

\- “I don’t even know why I remember the day I met you.” / “It was the first time your prattish arse got its ego bruised for real. That’s quite a memorable occasion.” / “Shut up, _Mer_ lin.” / “Make me, _Ar_ thur.” / “You wish.” / “So what if I did?”

(A scowl is apparently a suitable reply. Agravaine rolls his eyes.)

\- “Face it, you liberal wimp. There’s not much money can’t buy.” / “Your modesty, it slays me.” / “You know you like it, _Mer_ lin.” / “Oh, there sure is a lot I like...” 

(Arthur is clueless; Merlin leaves disappointed. Agravaine shares a look with Uther that says: _not my nephew; your son_.)

\- “Why are you walking with a limp, Merlin?” / “Jealous?” –/ “Of you? Why would I possibly be jealous of you?” 

(Agravaine almost facepalms.)

\--

It goes on and on. Day in, day out. Arthur is so far in the closet he really is in Narnia. Agravaine almost feels sorry for Merlin, and Agravaine doesn’t _do_ feelings.

Well. He does _one_ feeling: aggravation. Three months and fourteen days into his employment at Dragon’s Pen, he walks into the office like a man on a mission. If they’re not going to get their shit together today, Uther will either find a resignation letter on his desk or dead people in the corridor.

Thus, it is with impossible relief that he watches the following scene from around a corner:

Arthur crowding Merlin against a wall, leaning in, hands on either side of Merlin’s head. “You won’t even laugh at my jokes anymore,” he’s complaining. 

Merlin remains impassive.

“I haven’t seen you smile these past three days,” Arthur continues. Low, worried. 

At that, Merlin stares at Arthur. After a moment he says, disbelieving, “You—you were counting days?”

Agravaine wants to yell through the entire building that Arthur is so fucking gay for Merlin that rainbows pale in comparison, but Merlin does the job for him. 

When Arthur nods, Merlin pulls him into a hungry kiss, easy as that. Agravaine thinks, _fucking finally_ , and Arthur, not so stupid after all, drags Merlin into a supply closet conveniently located to their left.

_Arthur is in a closet, yes, but not in Narnia anymore. Probably in Merlin, soon_ , Agravaine tells himself stupidly before deciding that shooting himself really sounds like a good idea.

* * *

**#54**  
 **Pairing(s):** Mithian/Elena  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-14266.html

Girl’s night in only started an hour ago, but Elena’s already on her third glass of wine and has moved on to how bad her last boyfriend was at going down on her. “He would just stick his tongue up there and wiggle it around a little bit. So not sexy.”

Mithian thinks she can actually feel her face burning. She’s not usually comfortable talking about sex, but tipsy Elena has even less qualms about oversharing than sober Elena. “I’ve never been too fond of it.”

She’s pretty sure the amount of shock and betrayal in Elena’s face is unwarranted. “Wait, seriously?”

“It doesn’t do anything for me,” she says, and takes a hasty gulp of wine if only to give herself something to do. “It’s wet and messy and there’s not enough friction.”

The look Elena gives her is somewhere between devious and smug. She drains the rest of her glass in one go before she gets off the couch and drops to her knees in front of Mithian.

“What are you doing?” Her voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched.

Elena just grins as she manoeuvres Mithian to get her trousers off. “Blurring the lines between friendship and lesbianism.”

Before Mithian can formulate a response to that, her plain white panties have joined her trousers. Sitting bare-assed on Elena’s raggedy couch hadn’t been in her plans for tonight, but she can’t say she isn’t intrigued when Elena grabs her hips. She pulls Mithian to the edge of the couch and nudges her thighs apart. Mithian’s not sure whether it’s the anticipation or the dark gleam to Elena’s eyes, but she can feel herself getting wet.

She squirms a bit when Elena dips her head to press a wet kiss to her inner thigh, and she can feel Elena’s responding chuckle _everywhere_.

Mithian opens her mouth, fully intending to say something (she’s not sure whether it’s no, stop, this is too weird or get the fuck on with it already) but all words leave her when Elena uses one hand to spread her and just _goes_ for it, scraping the flat of her tongue from top to bottom, and oh, okay. It’s still wet and squirmy and a little embarrassing, but yeah, Mithian’s definitely intrigued.

The second Elena’s tongue finds her clit, Mithian mentally revises ‘intrigued’ to ‘turned on beyond belief.’ She can’t discern a pattern, and it’s as maddening as it is hot, trying to anticipate Elena’s moves.

Elena pulls back after a minute and licks her lips. Her face is flushed and her chin and mouth are wet and shiny and Mithian is weirdly into it. “Stop focusing on a pattern and just go with it.” And she goes right back in it.

It takes a minute or two, but Mithian eventually stops thinking and just feels, rolling her hips into the movement. She’s usually quiet during sex, too mortified at hearing herself moan, but she figures part of ‘just going with it’ is letting her mouth do whatever it wants, too, and lets the whine rip itself from her throat.

The vibrations from Elena’s answering groan just makes it all the better.

Her leg is twitching and warmth is licking up her spine by the time Elena shifts and slides two fingers into her. She cups her palm and pulls Mithian further into her mouth, tongue still furiously working her clit, and Mithian is slowly losing her mind. She’s all but riding Elena’s hand, head thrown back, lungs gasping for air as her head swims with how good it all feels -- everything from the tiny shockwaves building in her feet to the saliva dripping down her thighs to the drag of her cotton tee against her nipples has her right on the edge.

And then Elena crooks her fingers up, and Mithian comes apart, shaking and sweating and desperately trying to sound out the syllables of Elena’s name.

She’s still in that heady, post-orgasm daze by the time Elena’s face comes back into view, mouth red and slick and wearing the most obnoxious grin. Mithian’s still too blissed out to get too affronted.

“Still do nothing for you?” Elena asks. Smug looks surprisingly good on her.

“Consider my opinion changed.”

* * *

**#55**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur Pendragon  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** _“We hate each other, therefore the sex is mindblowing.”_

Their relationsh- _arrangement_ was, according to Arthur, simple enough for an _un_ trained monkey to understand. _’Surely Merlin, you can wrap your head around this as well as you wrap your hand around my dick,_ being his exact words, which had resulted in round two with Merlin holding Arthur down as he fucked in, in, in to that glorious body.

It was sex. 

Phenomenal sex, but nothing more. Arthur had made that clear when they’d woken – horrified- after their first drunken fumble. No talking, no feelings, no cooking each other breakfast. 

Which was why Merlin couldn't be seeing what he was; the view was admittedly delicious with the strings of an apron incongruously swaying over Arthur’s bare ass as he vigorously prodded at what faintly resembled scrambled eggs, though Merlin had never managed, in his culinary disasters, to make them _grey_.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Merlin blurted, nonplussed. On the rare occasions they woke up together it was generally indicative of being too drunk to move or too horny to pass up a sure thing like waking to a blow job, not brunch. If Arthur was going to mess with the rules, he should warn Merlin; he needed time to prepare himself for things like Arthur cooking, practically naked, sort out his increasingly muddled feelings; about the arrangement; about Arthur; about what he wanted; about that warm fluttering he got whenever he was near Arthur.

“Sit,” Arthur motioned to the rickety table Merlin had proudly rescued from a skip, and dazedly Merlin sat, distracted by the scratch marks he'd scored across Arthur's golden skin; like wings they spanned his shoulders and arced down his back to that beautiful ass, red crescent-shaped marks betraying Merlin’s grip of hours before when he’d guided Arthur's hips as the blond had ridden him with a desperate fury.

He was pulled from his daydream by a plate clattering in front of him, grey eggs atop toast, Arthur turning to the sink dropping the spatula with a splat.

"I know your lease is up soon,” he said, reaching to tap his temple, “so I was brainstorming-"

"Pretty sure storms can't exist in a vacuum," Merlin scoffed reflexively in his bafflement, poking experimentally at his breakfast with a finger as Arthur sat with his own.

" _So,_ ” Arthur continued, ignoring him, “it's stupid that to keep taking cabs and travelling back and forth to each other’s places. We should move in together. It’d be more…” Arthur whirled his fork in the air, “convenient.” He gestured between them, egg plopping onto the table top, “For both of us.”

“For the, uh,-?” Merlin halted, unsure.

“Sex. Yes.”

“You don’t think that’s a tad extreme? Moving in just for sex?”

“Isn’t that what couples do?”

_‘Couple?’_ "And when one of us meets someone?" ‘ _Not that I’m looking_ ’Merlin abandoned any pretence of eating and focused on playing along until something made sense.

"When did that last happen? Honestly?" Arthur asked, shovelling a forkful of egg into his mouth before lurching to the sink to spit, wiping at his mouth furiously.

"With seductive technique like yours, it's no surprise you can't get a date."

"Maybe I don't want them!" Arthur grit out, turning to Merlin, his face a mask of tension and, to Merlin’s surprise, _fear_. "Maybe I don't want anyone else."

"But you hate me," Merlin bleated, too confused to know what to do. "That's what you said when we - that it was good because we hate each other."

"That was then."

"What changed?"

"Me."

Arthur's whisper was barely audible.

“I’d like,” Arthur swallowed hard, fingers gripping onto the sink to counteract his suddenly weak legs, “for us to…ah…be, uh, more. Be not, apart-” Merlin’s never heard Arthur so unsure, or look so small as he confessed…what Merlin has known of himself for a while.

Arthur jumps like a startled stoat at the scrape of Merlin’s chair, closing his eyes and turning his face away as he braced for the fist he’s sure is coming.

Gentle fingers caress his cheek instead, soft lips pressing to his jaw, again and again, far more powerful than any blow.

Later, when Merlin swept aside the mess of their breakfast and pushed Arthur down onto the table, as he flipped up that stupid apron to curl his hand around Arthur's cock and slide two fingers into his hole still faintly slick from the night before, as he thrust his tongue between swollen lips, Merlin can’t resist having the last word, just audible over the protesting squeaks of the table.

"Clotpole."

* * *

**#56**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** [Sometimes you have a glimmer of a heart and then I immediately remember you are dead inside.](http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-58329.html) Used as inspiration.

Arthur’s cloak hung heavy and ill-fitting on Merlin’s shoulders. It was his winter one, designed so he might never feel a chill, and Merlin shook under it like he never meant to stop. His teeth chattered as he said, “Ar-Arthur.”

Arthur ignored him, a flurry of motion darting in and out of Merlin’s periphery. Dry kindling piled higher and higher in front of him with each circuit Arthur made.

“Arthur.”

“Stay _put_.”

Merlin clutched at the cloak draped over his chest with fingers that felt brittle. “Arthur.”

Arthur placed a staying hand on his shoulder, pressing down. “ _Don’t_ — _move_.”

That wasn’t much of an issue. Merlin had never felt less like moving in his life.

Arthur set himself on the log across from him and tasked himself with building the fire. He waited till it had gone from a spark to a blaze to ask tersely, “Are you warm enough, Merlin?”

Merlin shivered, sniffed, sneezed and nodded. “Yes, sire,” he said miserably. He smiled a wobbly smile, remembering Arthur pulling him out of the frozen lake, his angry silence as he sought to get him warm, the selfless way he’d given up his cloak.

“Good.” Arthur rubbed hands up and down his own arms. “Though only a prat would have fallen in to begin with.”

This _was_ Arthur however, it had probably been some kind of temporary insanity.

+

“If the cook is being reckless then it should be dealt with.” Arthur’s mouth pursed and he squeezed measured drops of Gaius’ poultice over the burns on Merlin’s hands.

“It was my fault,” Merlin insisted, hissing. He’d been caught up in following Agravaine and hadn’t been watching what he was doing.

Arthur dropped his hands with a scoff. “Somehow I find myself unsurprised, dolt.”

Merlin decided that a person could get a serious kink in their neck trying to decide if Arthur was actually concerned or simply looking for something to shout about.

+

“Leon should use more care,” Arthur warned, eyes flashing fire as he peeled the padding and tunic from Merlin’s torso, revealing a smattering of dark, painful bruises.

“I said I’d help him train,” Merlin said with a wince as Arthur carefully prod at his shoulder. “Having him go easy isn’t much help.”

Arthur stared at him like he’d lost what little brains he had. “You _offered_ to be bruised for hours on end, knowing you were no match for Sir Leon?” He scoffed, leaving Merlin to tend to his aches himself but not before reminding, “You are a fool.”

+

Merlin approached the Druid girl cautiously. Her eyes shone gold in the gloom of the stables and the hay bale above him exploded. She made a dash for it in the confusion while the horse in the next stall broke free and rushed him.

Merlin threw himself aside, using his own magic to drop a beam and seal off his path so the horse would be forced to change direction.

He was pulled to his feet and shaken barely a moment later. “Merlin.”

Arthur’s eyes were remarkably wide and, though Merlin felt rather shaken himself, he assured quickly, “It’s nothing, the horse spooked.”

Arthur’s expression closed, face tightening. “If you can’t tack my horse without being trampled to death then perhaps you should stick to tasks that are more suited to your limited skill-set.” He spun Merlin around, directed him towards a bench. “Like sitting. Over there. Silently. Prat.”

+

The arrow hit an inch away from Merlin’s left ear. 

Arthur wriggled out from beneath him. “Merlin,” he panted, breathless. To Merlin’s surprise, instead of pulling away he wrapped arms around him and held tight. “ _Idiot_.” 

“I’m fine. Arthur, I’m fine.”

Arthur scoffed, voice wavering. “You injure yourself doing the simplest of tasks, do you think I actually _want_ you throwing yourself in harm’s way?”

“Forgive me, sire, but your life is worth more than a servant’s.”

“Not more than _yours_ ,” Arthur retorted fiercely. He calmed himself, said more evenly, more genuinely, “Not—Not to me.”

“Oh.” Merlin swallowed, realisation dawning. His lips quirked slightly and he said, “So ‘prat’ means—”

“Prat,” Arthur finished for him. He smirked, adding, “You are _just_ a servant. Training another would be tiresome and I would like—” 

Merlin kissed him.

Arthur’s eyes went round, dazed. He hissed, “ _Merlin_.”

Merlin’s nimble fingers found the ties of his breeches, palm skating down the confined curve of his cock. “I think you’re a prat too, sire,” he said, leaning in again.

* * *

**#57**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** Slavery, mild bondage  
 **Text Chosen:** #306: but I have boobs. I'm not going to buy my own drinks at the bar like some kind of fucking animal.

Her slave was waiting when she got to her rooms. She saw the red rope draped over her door handle, and felt warm anticipation. It had been too long since he'd been free to service her, instead of grinding herbs for Gaius. His work here was much more enjoyable for all, and it did wonders for her sleep, which was more than she could say for Gaius.

The door creaked as she walked in, and she closed it quickly when she saw her boy at the table.

"Really," she said. "If Arthur were to come for a visit, what would he say to see you like this?"

He looked at his hands in his lap.

"In my rooms without a stitch? Did you want to be caught?"

"No."

"Then tell me, why are you naked like a whore at my breakfast table?"

"The door was locked," he said.

"Locked with magic?" Morgana asked.

"Yes, milady," he replied.

"Then that's even less safe," she snapped. "What would happen to me if my slave were caught?"

"I won't do it again," he said.

"Yes you will."

He didn't contradict her, only stood to help her undress. Layers of linen and wool came off, carrying propriety and manners with them to hang over her privacy screen. Right now was about dominance, so she took.

"Kneel, arms behind your back."

He knelt, so obedient here. He was a good slave for her, though Arthur complained constantly. She tied his wrists back, and pushed him to his knees before settling on her bed.

Her eyes flashed red- the color of her magic, and fury, and the color of his cock where it hung between his legs- and a heavy collar settled around his neck.

"Feels nice, doesn't it? To kneel for me?" Morgana crooned. Her slave only whined.

"Here, come here," she said, and watched as he shuffled on his knees towards her. "Such a good boy. You do that so well."

"You didn't forget the wine, did you?"

"No, milady."

"Good. A lady should not have to fetch her own drinks like a horse to the trough."

"Yes, Mistress," he said.

"Bring them here."

When his eyes flashed golden, she yanked his head back by the hair. "Not like that. If you are my slave, you use no magic. Now bring them here."

Her slave's eyes went down again, and he went to the table. It was too large to carry in his mouth, so he got to his feet and carried it behind him, bound hands around the belly of the ewer. He gave it to her, before retrieving the goblet.

“Enough,” Morgana said. “Back to your knees.”

She poured herself some and sipped, more for show than for thirst, then offered it to him. He tipped up his head and drank, but some escaped his mouth to fall to his chin. She climbed off the bed to catch those drops on her tongue.

“You taste lovely,” she said, then went to mouth at the trails up to his mouth, to lick along his lips and bite until he opened to her. When his chest heaved against her breasts, she got back onto the bedspread.

Merlin didn't move from where he knelt

"Such a beautiful mouth," she said, and parted her legs. "Please me."

He leaned in, and she pulled his hair to get him closer, until she felt his lips against her clitoris. With magic she loosened the ties from his arms, and his hands came up to her thighs.

Merlin was always so good at this, knew without her orders when to use one finger, or three, and she wondered if it was her magic or his, but it hardly mattered when the press of his tongue sent waves of pleasure over her. She tightened her fingers in his hair, knowing it pulled, knowing it hurt, but also knowing that her slave wouldn't protest.

Kinky bastard probably loved it. He always had.

She felt hotter, hotter, and yanked his face against her pussy, clamped her legs around his ears and nearly screamed as it broke over her. Through the rush in her ears she thought something might have smashed, but as her body finally went shaking-soft it was impossible to care.

Hands spread her legs apart, and with a gentle kiss against her- _too much, no, again_ \- Merlin pulled himself back.

"Good boy," Morgana murmured, and felt him rub his face against her outstretched fingers.

* * *

**#58**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** dubcon  
 **Text Chosen:** (774:) i just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled "dibs!"

“Morgana! Morgana, that one’s mine!”

Merlin didn’t give the exclamation much thought at first, not when a thousand other things were being exclaimed across the room as he walked in. But then he realised he was being pointed at and had a sort of _‘wait, what?!_ mini heart attack.

He stood frozen in place as the the blond bloke who’d singled him out got up from the sofa, and by the time said blond was making his way through the crowd, Merlin had kickstarted his brain back into working order again. He turned on his heel and went to hide in the loo, just until the whole thing blew over.

Nope, not going to be some footballer’s one night stand. No matter how gorgeous.

The trouble with hiding out in the loo was that everyone needed to use it and Merlin could only take knocking accompanied with death threats for so long. After about ten minutes passed, he sighed and peeked his head out, just before he was brutally shoved out of the way so some hulking beast of a man could barrel in.

“Hey.”

Merlin cringed. He’d only heard the voice once and yet he knew exactly who it belonged to. He turned around slowly before meeting the eyes of the blond he’d been avoiding.

And holy shit, what a pair of eyes they were up close.

 _No matter how gorgeous_ , Merlin told himself again. He’d had enough trouble with footballers.

“Uh, hi, listen—”

“You know, I have a really big cock.”

Merlin took a step back, partially because he was likely to get drunk just from inhaling the bloke’s breath, and partially because he just _needed to take a step back holy fucking shit_.

“That’s, er, good for you, but you see I’m not really into that so—”

“Hi, I’m Morgana.”

The dark-haired beauty seemed to appear from nowhere and Merlin nearly snapped his neck from turning to her.

“Hello?”

The blond guy shouldered her out of the way, glaring daggers at her. “Didn’t you hear me say he’s mine?”

“I’m not anyone’s!” Merlin yelled. “Look, can I just please—”

“What’s your name?” Morgana asked, standing on tip toes over the man’s shoulder.

Merlin made to slide left along the wall, slipping through a gap between two other people, but as soon as he moved, Morgana stepped from behind the blond right in front of him.

He was cornered.

“Um, Merlin. Now can I—”

“You say you’re not into cock, Merlin? How convenient,” she said, raising a brow at the bloke.

“Are you kidding me, of course he is!” said bloke countered.

“Uh…”

“Watch.”

Before Merlin could move to stop it, Morgana’s lips were against his, her hands clawed around his face to keep him there. He grabbed her wrists and tried to make some kind of protesting noise with his throat but apparently it was mistake for a moan. She tilted her head more and slotted their mouths together.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed when she pulled away. “You can’t just kiss someone like—”

“See, I told you. Now _you_ watch.”

And then the bloody _bloke_ ’s lips were on Merlin’s, but instead of his face, it was Merlin’s hips he grabbed, curling strong fingers around his waist and pulling him closer. Merlin meant for the bend of his back to be a move _away_ from the body pressed against him, but it ended up pushing their groins together and okay maybe the man hadn’t been exaggerating about his cock. The moan that erupted from Merlin’s throat then wasn’t entirely in protest.

Merlin blinked a few times after they separated. It hadn’t been the best kiss of his life, and had tasted strongly of alcohol, but it had also been fucking brilliant.

“Wow,” he exhaled. The man was still holding onto him, grinning in a way that was both victorious and charming, and should probably be illegal. Merlin spared one moment to think of his ‘no shagging footballers’ rule, but decided to throw caution to the wind when a flash of tongue made the pouty red lips glisten.

“I’m Arthur.”

“I’m…” Oh, right, he’d already told them his name. Merlin looked to Morgana again, who was currently crossing her arms and scowling. “I’m his, sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile.

Morgana huffed and stormed away, not that Merlin cared much. He turned back to Arthur, suddenly feeling like _he’d_ won a prize.

“So about this big cock of yours.”

* * *

**#59**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** DubCon for Intoxication  
 **Text Chosen:** (780): The key to alley sex is drunkeness.

Stumbling out of the club, Merlin glances over his shoulder and gives the stone-faced bouncer escorting them a wide, sloppy grin.

“Thanks for seeing us out, think we got it from here!”

Arthur giggles and Merlin knows for certain he’s drunk. Arthur Pendragon does _not_ giggle, thank you very much.

There’s already a queue for taxis and it looks like they’ll be waiting a while before they get their turn. Frustrated, Merlin whines deep in his throat.

“Fuck Arthur, I can’t wait that long! I _need it_.” 

Arthur’s already teased him past endurance out on the dance floor. In fact, he’d teased him past the endurance of the club staff. After one warning to keep the groping to a PG level, they’d been thrown out of the club when Arthur had blatantly unbuttoned Merlin’s jeans and reached inside to palm his straining cock.

Out on the pavement, Arthur plasters himself against Merlin’s body, and takes his mouth in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth and soft, lush lips. _Fuck_ , Merlin loves Arthur’s mouth.

“Please, Arthur,” he pants, “I _can’t_ wait.”

As Merlin begs, a predatory smirk tugs up one corner of Arthur’s lips. He clamps a hand around Merlin’s wrist, tugging him back toward the club. Bypassing the door, he continues down the street another few meters before pulling Merlin into the shadow of a narrow alleyway.

Shoving Merlin up against the bricks, Arthur takes his mouth again. Losing himself in the kiss, Merlin fills his hands with Arthur’s arse, squeezing and kneading the firm muscles. Arthur goes for Merlin’s jeans again, twisting open the button and forcing the zipper wide as he slides his hand inside.

Merlin groans as Arthur’s fingers close around his needy flesh and begin to stroke. His knees go weak and he shifts his hands to Arthur’s back, clinging to stay upright. His head is swimming and his cock is throbbing and leaking, wetting Arthur’s grip, easing the rough strokes.

“You want me to fuck you, you filthy bitch? That what you want?” Arthur growls in Merlin’s ear. “You need my fat cock up that greedy little whore’s hole, don’t you?”

_Fuuuuck!_ Arthur knows exactly what to say to make Merlin lose control, to make him beg.

“Yeesss! Please, I need it. Now. Need it, now. Arthur please!”

“You don’t care who sees, do you? Such a desperate little slut. You’d have let me fuck you right on that dance floor, wouldn’t you? Everyone watching you beg, watching you get it hard. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, you shameless whore?”

Reduced to whimpers, all Merlin can do is nod frantically in agreement, praying Arthur is too far gone to tease him for long.

His prayer is answered when Arthur spins him around to face the wall and shoves him flat. Merlin bites his lip to stifle a cry. _This_ , he loves this. Loves when Arthur gets rough.

Two spit-covered fingers and a quick scissoring stretch are all the preparation he gets before the wide, blunt head of Arthur’s cock breaches him. Merlin hisses at the burning pain, bites his lip and shoves his arse back, taking Arthur to the root in one rough slide. Arching away from the wall, he throws his head back as Arthur latches on to his neck, biting down hard as Merlin shudders against him.

Arthur pauses there, giving Merlin time to adjust to the abrupt penetration, but that isn’t what Merlin wants. He’s craving the sensitizing pain that makes everything so much better in the end. Bucking his hips, he groans Arthur’s name pleadingly. Obliging Merlin’s wordless demand, Arthur starts to fuck. Hard. He’s got a hand on Merlin’s hip and another anchored in Merlin’s hair and he yanks Merlin back as he thrusts forward.

It’s hard and fast and far noisier than it should be considering where they are, but it’s the best sex they’ve had in weeks and Arthur is right, Merlin is shameless enough not to care if anyone sees.

Finishing Merlin off with a few twisting strokes, Arthur empties his balls with a strangled howl, and leans against Merlin for a moment, recovering. Cum trickling from his abused hole, Merlin pulls his jeans back up while Arthur buttons his own.

They leave the alley, slightly more sober than when they entered it. The taxi queue has dwindled to a single couple, and they are on their way home in minutes. Arthur falls asleep with his head in Merlin’s lap, and Merlin leans back in the seat, supremely content with his world.

* * *

**#60**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Other, Merlin/Other, Elena/Other, Merlin/Gwaine/Other, Gwen/Lancelot/Other, Morgana/Other, Merlin/Elyan/Moral Restraint  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (612): i watched you ride a mechanical penis. nothing is awkward between us anymore.

Wind rushed across the bow of the HMAS _Kilgharrah_ , catching in sharp eddies against the railings up top, then plummeting down over the balconies dotting the sides, before spilling off the rudder into the clouds below.

Gwen and Merlin shared one of the balconies, feet dangling through the railing, buffeted by random gusts. A few curls escaped Gwen's hairpins and danced around her face. To Merlin she looked like pure, distilled mischief - a twinkle in her eyes, a soft, secret curl to her mouth. 

The ever-present thrum of the airship's engines drowned out their murmured plans.

~~~~

'Join the Royal Airship Corps', the wireless had told Merlin. 'You'll serve Camelot and learn a valuable trade.'

Of course, they hadn't mentioned how _bored_ he'd be, or how easy it was to get into trouble on a ship full of surplus parts. Or how frustratingly fit the whole Corps was.

"Then Gwaine said 'thanks mate' and passed out drunk, strapped into my hammock with me and unconscious all night. That's the second fellow, Gwen! The _second_!" Merlin took his frustration out on a stiff bolt, yanking it hard enough to send it flying.

"Oh, I know," Gwen replied, snatching the bolt out of the air and dropping it into her belt-pouch. "You warned me about Lancelot, but still I thought he might be up for more than a bit of post-rescue snogging."

"A ship full of gorgeous people, and no one's getting any because they're all hot for each other," Merlin bemoaned.

"Ridiculous," Gwen agreed. "Pass me those pliers, please."

Merlin did, then paused. "Are you sure no one will miss these gears?"

~~~~

Merlin returned late from his shift, having stopped by the showers long enough to wash off the worst of the grease. The engine's hum kept him from hearing anything until he opened the door to their tiny bunkroom. Then, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed, he quickly shut it behind him and slid the lock home.

"So," he tried, voice cracking. He swallowed, cleared his throat. "Got it working, yeah?"

"Yeah," Gwen breathed. Gasped, really. Her half-lidded eyes slipped shut on a whole body shudder, and Merlin shivered in sympathy. Or envy.

Her hammock was swaying, bolts creaking with each movement. The sound was almost drowned out by the soft whir of the machine bolted to the floor, its gears rotating at a firm pace, one arm of it reaching up between her thighs. Wet, obscene sounds drifted from there, punctuated by Gwen's soft sighs.

Merlin whined in his throat.

"Dun' worry," Gwen slurred, her neck arching. "'lmost there-"

Merlin shucked his trousers so fast he almost tripped over them.

~~~~

He'd been in the Royal Air Corps long enough to know that it was impossible to keep secrets on any ship. Still, he was slightly surprised to walk into his bunkroom two days later to find Elena on her back on their cleared workbench, trousers round her ankles and breasts popped out of her shirt, bouncing as she fondled them.

"I'll just... lock this then?" Merlin gestured at the door.

Elena gave a complicated shrug, never losing stride. "If you like."

Merlin decided that surprise didn't equal disappointment. Elena made amazing noises when she came.

~~~~

"Couldn't get you into my hammock before-" Merlin half-complained as Gwaine moaned, shifting and trying to rub off against Merlin's hip. Behind him, the machine whirred cheerfully.

"Faster," Gwaine hissed. "Merlin, c'mon-"

Merlin reached down with one toe and turned up the speed.

~~~~

It turned out, Lancelot's favorite position was straddling the bench, tipped forward with his face in Gwen's cleavage, apologizing while the machine pressed forward agonizingly slow until it was in as deep as it could go, then pulled back with a slight twist.

Merlin didn't ask how Gwen had figured this out.

~~~~

"Are you mad?" Elyan asked when Merlin offered. "My sister's used that thing. Now I'll have to clear that image out of my-"

Elyan looked conflicted enough that Merlin blew him in the pantry. He had a thing for principled men.

~~~~

Lieutenant Pendragon - Morgana, not Arthur - had a laugh like silver bells when she was going over the top, in a fight or during sex.

"You're next," she panted as she came down, tracing up Gwen's thigh with one regulation-defying fingernail.

Merlin whined, and Morgana shot him a look that was mostly teeth. "Don't worry, sailor. Good things come to those who wait."

Above her head, Gwen gave him a twinkling, mischevious smile, like she already knew the shape of their next plan.

* * *

**#61**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Mithian (attempted)  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (512): I taught a straight girl about grindr today. She showed me tinder. It was like some sexual cultural exchange program

"No, Merlin, no." Mithian sloshed her wine over the edge of her glass as she tried to waggle the wrong finger at Merlin. "Tinder is not "just Grindr for straight people.'"

"How is it not Grindr for straight people?" Merlin snatched her phone off the coffee table and waved it in the air like it proved his point. Which it did, or would if Merlin knew Mithian's passcode. 

"Tinder is a proper dating app." She lunged to get her phone back. She missed. "Grindr is just a meat market."

"Oh, like anyone on Tinder is looking for a long-term relationship. You're like the queen of the casual hook-up."

"And you're the queen of commitment," she shot back. "You're longing for someone to follow around all day and clean up after."

"Not _all_ day," Merlin protested. He planned to spend a good portion in bed, getting quite well serviced himself.

Mithian grabbed her phone back. She scooted closer to him on the sofa to show him the screen. "See, you get a bunch of pictures of guys who are in your area, and you pick the ones you find attractive."

"Right, right, I see." Merlin nodded and widened his eyes attentively. "Guys you find physically attractive who are close enough to meet up with you. Very different."

She shot him a look. "So you pick a guy you like and—Merlin, are you listening?"

Merlin looked up guiltily from his own phone, where he was scrolling through Grindr. "Erm, yes, of course?"

"All right, so you find a hot guy—ooh, look at this one." She tilted the phone towards Merlin. "Arthur P from right here in Kensington. Blond and buff, just like I like them."

"Me, too." Merlin leaned over to look. "Ooh, he is right fit, isn't he?"

"Go find your own." Mithian swatted him playfully. "Right, so I click the heart...."

With Arthur P lost to a presumption of heterosexuality, Merlin lost interest and opened Grindr.

"...and if he likes my photo, he'll click my heart."

A photo appeared in the top row of the screen—blond, fit, and familiar. Merlin raised his eyebrows and clicked on it. _Arthur P is .3 km from you_. A grin slowly spread over Merlin's face.

"Oh, he's online! He clicked me back! I'm in, Merlin, I can feel it. Now look, I can open up a chat connection with him and see if we have anything in common."

Being fairly certain that he and Arthur P already had things in common, Merlin also opened up a chat. He had a response in seconds that made him bite back a laugh. He responded in kind.

"Huh. His answers are getting slower. But I think he's into me."

Merlin was half hard in his pants, and much more interested in getting Arthur P into him. Time to seal the deal.

"Right, I just caught him at a bad time. He said he had to go. But I'll have a date by tomorrow, I promise you, Merlin."

"Sure, Mizza," Merlin said agreeably. "But tonight you're going to have to find somewhere else to be."

"What?" Mithian squawked. "I've had most of a bottle already. I was counting on sleeping on your sofa."

"Which would be fine, except that Arthur P is going to be here in fifteen minutes." Merlin grinned and held up his phone. Mithian gaped at Arthur P's (very shirtless) Grindr profile in surprise. "And about twenty minutes after that, he should be pounding me into this sofa. Because I can do casual hook-ups, too, you know."

***

Luckily, Arthur showed up a few minutes late, because it took almost a half hour to get Mithian to stop laughing. When Merlin answered the doorbell, the fit blond man from the pictures was leaning against the wall outside, hip cocked and lips pouted in an exaggerated come-hither posture.

Merlin burst out laughing. Arthur P's face lit up, eyes crinkling from his wide, joyful smile. It actually took more than an hour after that to get Arthur inside him. They had the wine to finish, and dozens of other things to laugh about first. 

But finally Merlin was on his back with his body giving way around Arthur's latex-clad cock. He arched up with a helpless moan of pleasure. Fuck, he thought, as Arthur kissed the moan from his lips. This wasn't going to be casual at all. 

At least he'd still proved his original point--despite himself.

***

And he forced Mithian to admit it in her best man's speech at the wedding.

* * *

**#62**  
 **Pairing(s):** Elena/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (307): Do not tell guys at bars about kittens you rescue. They will walk away.

When they returned from Camelot, the court physician and court sorcerer looked her over, muttering wisely to each other about how she was so fortunate to be free of her curse, and Elena clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. 

They never thought anything was wrong with her before, the frauds.

She bit back the angry words with no difficulty; smiled, gracious and cool, and excused herself to the stables without tripping over her feet.

She was mistress of herself now, and the worst thing was how much it felt like a lie. This wasn't her. She didn't know herself, and all her happiest memories were flat and distant - she couldn't remember the greedy satisfaction at the slippery feel and taste of a frog kicking down her throat, the blithe way she had fumbled her fork and knife and knocked over her wineglass without a thought. She'd rather stay helpless and not know how all the court ladies whispered about her behind their hands.

This one thing remained true - the warm breath of Frog snuffling at her hands for apples, Frog's hard, smooth muscles moving beneath her as she rode out into the woods away from everything.

"Help, please," a desperate voice cracked, breaking into her reverie. 

Elena reined Frog in, suddenly very aware she was alone and far from the castle. "Who is it?" she asked, tense and ready to kick Frog back into a run.

A ragged beggar woman stumbled out from the underbrush, looking ready to collapse. Elena looked closer, and caught her breath at the woman's stark beauty, striking even with her tangled black hair and torn dress. Surely this was no beggar, not with those proud features, and the fine material that clung near immodestly to her full curves.

"What happened to you, miss?" Elena asked, swinging down to catch the woman before she fell.

The woman clutched at her arms with disarming strength, and Elena flinched from the bright triumph in her pale eyes. "What do you want?" But then came a terrible noise - long, high, filled with pain. The woman's grip slackened as fear and anger flashed over her face. "Aithusa," she whispered, "no, stay out of sight," and...

...and a white dragon crashed through the brush after the woman. Elena forgot to pull away, staring at the small, broken creature helplessly. It was barely larger than Frog! "Oh, you poor thing, what happened to you?" It whimpered again, and Elena rushed forward to pet and soothe it, while the woman stared at them with wild eyes, shocked into silence.

"You must come back with me," Elena said, breathlessly, carefully stroking around the chafe marks marring the dragon's bony neck. "You and your dragon. I don't care what you were planning, I will give the poor thing a sheep, I will give her a whole cow," she declared as the dragon thrilled and bumped her with its head.

The woman dropped a knife.

Elena barely had time to brace herself before the woman crashed bodily into her, and the next thing she knew was the feel of soft lips urgently mouthing over her own, and that lush body she'd noticed was pressing her against the dragon, and this was - Elena put her arms around the woman and let it happen, accepted the frantic kisses and kissed back, the first thing she'd wanted, that felt like the urgent way she'd wanted frogs, felt like riding. 

Slowly, the urgency died as Elena petted at her hair and shoulders like she was petting the dragon. The woman started at her, lips parted and mouth twisted in a way that said she was full of horrible feelings Elena knew well, doubt and fear and self-hate. It hurt to see, so Elena leaned forward and kissed her again gently, encouraging her to continue, daring to put her arms around the woman. 

Maybe it was foolish; maybe it was wrong. Elena didn't care, kissed harder, took the woman's hand and put it on her breast because she wanted to feel it, ran her hands down the curve of her back.

The woman rocked against her, pushed a strong thigh between her legs and mouthed at her jaw and down her throat when Elena tore her mouth away to pant for breath. "I will give you a cow too," she said, and the woman laughed, and laughed.

* * *

**#63**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** none   
**Text Chosen:** (770): One of my interns found me on Grindr. I'm really gonna make him earn the absurd amount of money I pay him.

When Arthur flipped open his phone and noticed the Grindr app notification, he barely managed to suppress a yawn. He was working late even though he'd promised Morgana to get home early, after she'd caught dozing off during a conference call with Hong-Kong. He would probably fall asleep at his desk. Again. But he was instantly awake when he saw a familiar face smiling at him from the screen of his iPhone.

'Emrys', Grindr told him, said "Hi."

The man - _boy_ \- on the profile picture had a big, flirtatious smile. The customized tag line told him Emrys was a "Young potential". Which was exactly how Gaius had described him when he’d suggested the PA internship. He didn't need the app telling him that this Grindr-member was only 20 feet away from him. 

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed, before he could think this through. Because saying ‘hi’ on Grindr basically meant ‘let's fuck’. And Arthur hadn't had a good fuck in forever. He didn't need his brain listing all the reasons why this was a bad idea. 

The moment Merlin entered his office, looking part eager, part sheepish, Arthur's brain fell quiet. With both hands he reached out to pull Merlin’s face close enough to kiss him hard. Getting over the initial surprise, Merlin’s lips opened easily, melting into the kiss. Arthur reached out with one hand to cup Merlin’s buttocks and pull him tighter against his burgeoning erection. Merlin groaned in response and kissed Arthur back almost feverishly. 

When they broke apart, Arthur asked, before Merlin could recover enough to say anything: "Why the hell are you even on Grindr?”  
It was a legitimate question; a young, hot piece of ass like Merlin should never have any trouble finding a bloke.

"I have a terrible gaydar.” Merlin blurted out. "Countryside bumpkin and all that," Merlin muttered, echoing the remark Arthur had made on Merlin's first day, when he'd asked Merlin where he was from. 

“Well, whatever you were hoping to get out of it tonight, I know what _I’ll_ be getting out of it. If I had known my PA was thus inclined, I would have had you looking after _other_ needs a lot earlier. It's not like I don't pay you enough.”

When Merlin looked nonplussed Arthur mentally kicked himself for crossing the line. But then Merlin was kissing him again, hands and long fingers tugging at the buttons and zipper on Arthur’s trousers. In a frenzy of movement, they stumbled towards Arthur’s desk; Arthur sitting down hard in his chair and Merlin’s sliding down awkwardly in front of him.

“You have done this before, right?” Arthur asked.

"Of course I have,” Merlin snapped, indignant. In one smooth gesture Arthur’s underwear was at his ankles.

So Merlin wasn’t as innocent as perverted punters on Grindr might hope from his boyish profile picture, but he wasn’t quite as experienced as Merlin himself would like to think he was. But what he lacked in skill, he made up in raw enthusiasm.

“You are the worst intern ever, really.” Arthur said, as he watched his cock slide in and out of Merlin’s sinuous mouth.

“When you manage not to spill it all over my shoes, the coffee you bring is always lukewarm at best.” 

Arthur gripped the hair on Merlin’s neck, loving the feel of Merlin moaning around his cock as he willingly let Arthur set the pace.

“Your copies are quite atrocious, documents are never in the right order.”

So close now. 

“Still. Gaius was right, you… are… talented,” he finally said in between the thrusts. 

When he came, his eyes didn’t leave Merlin’s, as he swallowed him down. 

“Fuck.” Arthur muttered, falling back into his chair.

“Yeah”, Merlin said, taking out his own cock in order to jerk of quickly. 

“Hold it!” 

Merlin looked up surprised and like the good student he was, halted his movements.

“I’m still your boss. You don’t get to come until I say you can,” Arthur continued, “and that is going to be _after_ I get my cock inside your arse.”

Arthur watched Merlins adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. "But you just..."

"You dare question my stamina?" Arthur asked sternly, 

Merlin smiled at that; his easy, cocky smile that reached up to his ridiculously big ears. 

Emrys’ Grindr profile was going to be deleted; Arthur decided. From now on, these smiles were for Arthur and Arthur alone to enjoy. Pervy punters be damned.

* * *

**#64**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Vivian/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Gwaine/Freya  
 **Warning(s):** \--  
 **Text Chosen:** please come here right now, that girl who always gets her boob out is here and she brought taco bell

Merlin had a way of dragging Arthur into trouble.

One time, in first grade, Merlin convinced Arthur that ‘freeing’ their caterpillars from their ‘plastic dungeons’ before they’d completed the project and received a grade would make Arthur the most noble knight in the city.

It was all downhill from there really. 

Idiot: please come here right now, that girl who always gets her boob out is here and she brought taco bell

Arthur sighed after reading it. He knew that logically he should ignore it. He wasn’t six anymore, he’d long since learned how to spot incoming trouble.

But . . . Merlin was now at that stupid art school on the other side of campus so Arthur convinced himself that it would be fine, because he hadn’t seen Merlin in two days. He’d just stop by for a second, make sure Merlin was okay. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Wrong. 

Well, there was taco bell, and a boob, but there was also an orgy.

Arthur stood there and thought over his life choices, because what did one do, really, when they walked in on that? 

Arthur zeroed in on Merlin, his long neck, the sound—he suddenly realized the moaning was obscene and stepped forward as he shut the door.

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze.

Arthur just looked at his eyes. There was more interesting things going on, like the Merlin and Freya sandwich. But those blue eyes were probably the safest spot.

Arthur registered that it was Gwaine, Merlin’s new roommate, that was flush against Merlin’s backside, and that Freya was flush against Merlin’s front, rocking into him as her hand pumped between Vivian’s—the boob girl’s—legs.

Merlin gestured around wildly as he moaned out, “hoodie . . . ah . . . pocket.”

When he found it there was only a condom in the pocket.

Arthur raised a skeptical brow and absently let the hoodie fall, “You want me too . . .”

Merlin glared up at him but quickly pinched his eyes shut as Gwaine thrust, hard, and bit the nape of his neck. Merlin recovered and panted, “Not if you don’t want to.”

That was how Arthur ended up in a desk chair, butt ass naked, with Vivian straddling him as she bounced up and down on his cock. 

Arthur could only focus on her for about five seconds before his eyes dropped back down. He knew somewhere in his mind that that was probably fucked, but well.

Merlin was taking some bloke’s cock up his arse. Merlin’s hard dick was right there, all thick, and like, hard as he thrust into Freya. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know about his thing for Merlin, because he knew. He just thought it should be avoided. 

Well, Arthur couldn’t avoid it that time. There was no way in hell. 

So, Arthur watched. 

When his eyes flickered back to Merlin’s face he was surprised that Merlin’s eyes were fixed on him.   
Then, suddenly, Merlin was slapping at Gwaine as he pulled out of Freya. 

For a second, Arthur died, because he actually thought Merlin was about to have sex with him instead. He had a vision of Merlin pulling Vivian off and everything when he heard a snap and looked down to see Merlin take the condom off.

Arthur’s lips fell open as Merlin took a step forward and flicked his cock against them. 

Arthur took it into his mouth easily, and Merlin let out a surprised moan as he fisted his hand through Arthur’s hair.

Arthur swallowed Merlin down. Merlin was thrusting but he didn’t need to because Arthur bobbed so enthusiastically that Merlin’s head hit the back of his throat with every thrust. 

Somewhere Arthur registered it as he started snapping his hips up into Vivian as she fell against him with a series of bitten-off moans. Arthur absently took the weight, curled around her and sat up so he could keep sucking Merlin’s hardness down. 

Merlin spread his legs and Arthur had an urge to touch so he reached between Merlin’s legs and fondled his balls before he pressed two fingers against Merlin’s hole. Merlin moaned and Arthur went for it, pressed two fingers in.

Arthur pumped them once, then twice, and Merlin clenched down tight around them. 

A second later, Merlin pulsed and spilled down Arthur’s throat. Arthur’s orgasm tore through him as the taste spread throughout his mouth.

Well, damn. At least he’d remembered the condom.

Arthur wasn’t in too much trouble that time.

* * *

**#65**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Percival/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** Dub-con because somebody is sooooo druuuunk woooo  
 **Text Chosen:** (402) You FaceTimed me at three in the morning while you were peeing. Your eyes were glazed over and you showed me your bellybutton.

_I got one less problem without cha,_  
I got one less problem without cha,  
WOOOOOOOOP 

At this hour, any ringtone would be obnoxious, but the one Merlin had assigned to Arthur was especially jarring. He groaned, cracked one eye open, and dragged himself up onto his elbows to peer at the bright rectangle of light on his nightstand. As a spastic saxophone riff entered the fray of noise, he groped desperately for his phone, and swiped a finger across its surface.

His screen showed a view of a toilet paper roll on the back of a loo. The sound of a very copious amount of liquid hitting more liquid also served as a clue to Arthur’s current whereabouts.

Merlin cleared his throat. “Arthur?” he said. The sound of pissing went on. “ARTHUR?” His voice sounded too-loud as it was, having just awakened.

The view swiveled to reveal Arthur’s face. His blond hair was touselled, his blue eyes were glazed over, and his mouth was twisted up to one side in a loopy grin. “Heyyyy!!!” he said. About that time, he finally stopped pissing.

“Arthur, it’s three in the morning. Is everything all right?”

“Everythin’s peachy, Mer-lin. Wha’s s’up?” His words slurred together lazily.

“Ehm, nothing. You called me.”

“I did?” 

“Yes, Arthur. You did. Waking me from a bloody sound sleep, I…should…add…”

Arthur’s phone started lowering, but not in the freefall that Merlin would associate with someone passing out. This was deliberate. He noticed, for the first time, that Arthur was shirtless. Arthur held the phone in a lingering manner to face his nipples, and then dragged it down his rather-nicely-muscled stomach, until the view stalled at his belly button. 

“Arthur, w-what are you doing?”

“Jus’ saying heyyyy!!!”

Right then the bathroom door opened. Arthur’s phone moved to a level surface – a countertop, most likely – and the closely-shorn head of a complete stranger came into view. “Hey, you. Doin’ okay in here?” the stranger rumbled, and then they both sidled out of view, leaving Merlin to stare at the ceiling. 

He could swear he heard the sounds of making-out. “...Arthur?”

“Heyyyy!!!” Arthur said, picking up the phone and grinning into it again.

“Arthur, who is that?” Merlin’s voice lowered to a dramatic whisper.

“Oh, thissis Percy! Say hi t’ Merlin, Percy!”

Percy smiled and leaned toward Arthur. From this new angle, Merlin could see them locking lips this time, in a deep, sloppy kiss. Well, Arthur’s end was sloppy, anyway.

Merlin stared. “You…you fancy men?”

“Gwen issint th' only one who gets t' be bisexual innis town!!” Arthur said, belligerently.

Percy took the phone. “Do _you_ fancy men?” he asked, a smile quirking his lips. His eyes seemed to bore straight through the screen to Merlin's own. Merlin could feel his cheeks getting hot. 

Percy seemed to take that well enough as an answer; he grinned, and winked. “Talk to you later, Merlin,” he said, and the connection cut off.

And Merlin was left alone in the dark again, to try to get back to sleep. But he couldn’t, because now he was horny.

“Why did you have to call me, you git?”

Merlin lowered his hand to his cock, and thought of what those two might be doing, right now.

But, no, that wasn’t quite good enough. Shyly, as if he expected them to turn around at any moment, notice he was there, and start laughing at his hubris, he decided to imagine that they were both with _him_.

He decided that Percy would be the one who would take him from behind. In Arthur’s current state, he most likely would perform the sexual equivalent of wrapping himself around a telephone pole and dying in a fiery explosion if he attempted anal. Arthur could suck his dick. He tried not to think about shoving too deeply down Arthur’s throat – that probably also was not a good idea. He could just be suckling the tip of him instead. That big, loopy mouth, wrapping its smirking lips around his weeping head, tongue sloppily licking the constant torrent of precum from his slit…

“Ohhh yeah,” he sighed.

He grabbed his nuts with his left hand and squeezed them, slow and hard, imagining Percy grabbing them from behind.

“Oh God, oh yes, oh God, you both…” He was so close...

“ _That’s it, boy, take it,_ ” Percy would grunt…

“ _Give it to me, Merlin. Come for me_ ,” Arthur would say, suddenly sober, his expression hungry. 

Merlin yelled, and spent himself all over his bedspread.

“Fucking prat,” Merlin mumbled, once he'd cleaned up, and set his phone to vibrating mode.

* * *

**#66**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** Dubcon, Exhibitionism, Sex Work  
 **Text Chosen:** (+44): Some girl is sitting topless in the kitchen and having a Skype video chat with some guy. I already like it here.

Arthur has never considered taking a day off his job.

Recovering from a _bracing_ trip to the surgeon's office, for two wisdom teeth being extracted, changes that without argument.

The swelling isn't horrible, but he's told it will increase in another day. Annis, his usual orthodontist, warns him to stay hydrated with cold fluids. Not fancying the idea of getting dizzy again, Arthur shuffles to the kitchenette, tenderly fingering the left of his jaw.

He hears his flatmate talking in murmurs, likely on her mobile, and shrugs it off. Arthur turns the hallway corner, and comes to a complete halt.

Before anyone assumes the worst of him, Arthur _knows_ he should turn and disappear back into his room. Because staring at his female and very topless flatmate isn't very… gentlemen-like.

And for the record, he's not _staring_.

She's not looking at him, with her curly, dark hair flowing over her shoulder; Arthur suspects she hasn't even figured out he's there.

There's something fantastic and radiant about Morgana le Faye. And it's not _entirely_ to do with the diamond pendant cradled in her breasts.

“Hmm, that sounds lovely… having you fuck my breasts,” she purrs. 

The person on video-cam licks his lips when Morgana's hands cup and very subtly push them together. Royal-red fingernails brush her soft, erect nipples.

“How about it, handsome? Would you like that?”

Why yes, yes in fact he wou— _oh god_. Arthur's cock is thickening fast in his pyjama trousers and he needs to sod off.

“Shite, yea, I'd—” The handsome, equally dark-haired bloke on the video blinks. He asks, squinting his eyes curiously at Arthur. “Oi, who's that?”

Morgana's head whips around, and if looks could actually kill someone, Arthur expects himself six feet by now.

He finds himself dragged out of view of Morgana's laptop.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Arthur?”

“Who the hell is that?” Arthur does his best to keep his gaze from the diamond pendant, and consequently her bare chest. “Jesus christ, Morgana—are you a bloody _call girl_?” he nearly yells.

“I'm doing business, you tosspot,” Morgana hisses, green eyes livid. “It's good fucking money and you're mucking it up. Why aren't you with Merlin?”

Arthur twists up his expression. “He _fusses_.”

“Then marry the poor lad and you can make those quickies you lot have on Thursdays and Fridays official,” she says, and the quirk of her slim mouth is _lovely_ , and he's certain that Morgana is nothing but evil.

He flushes ugly.

They're not fully out of view of the camera. The bloke calls out, semi-interested, “How much to watch you two have a go?”

Morgana gives him a sultry look, anger dissipating into coy nature. “Would you like me to suck him off?”   
Arthur furrows his eyebrows—what?

“That would be _beautiful_.”

The gravelly tone of Morgana's customer… Arthur knows he's heard that voice before. 

Not sure where, but at the moment, he's distracted by his jaw complaining about the pain and his stomach being empty, and his toes _curling_ as Morgana ushers him back and yanking down his trousers.

Arthur tries not to peek in the corners of his eyes at the bloke wanking on-screen. In the haze of arousal and confusion, he wonders about agreeing to have a film of expensive lipstick smear over the base of his cock.

It's like any other blowjob, heat and sensually wet, but lacks the rough bristle of Merlin's lip-hair and familiar stretch of his grin. How Merlin pale, spindly fingers tease his arsehole… 

Arthur clutches his hands, falling into the expert rocking motions of Morgana's head and her throat swallowing his cock.

Off to his right, the bloke starts panting.

“Oh god, godalmighty, I'm gonna come…”

Arthur scrunches his face, ignoring how it sends a twinge down his neck.

“Is that _Gwaine_ —?” he asks loudly, now outright staring at the laptop. Before he can get Morgana to pull off, the screen goes black.

Morgana smacks Arthur's furry thigh, open-handed.

“You're _lucky_ he paid up front,” she says, glaring right back as Arthur does. He stuffs himself back into his pyjamas.

“Leave a—a damn sock, or your _bra_ out next time!”

Morgana shouts at his back, “That only works on a DOOR!”

“Then _leave it on MINE_!”

Arthur half-smiles to himself while grabbing a bottle of water. Merlin is going to absolutely love this story.

* * *

**#67**  
 **Pairing(s):** Freya/Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, Elena/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** none apply  
 **Text Chosen:** Look I know it's late and I hope this doesn't wake you up but I feel like you should know that I'm sleeping on my couch in my own apartment so that my friend can get laid in my bed, and I would do the same for you.

Freya's always seemed small until the night he asks her about her fantasies and she climbs on top of him and says, "I dream about seeing you get fucked."

And suddenly she's everywhere, spreading her frame over his back, mouthing at his shoulder, squeezing his dick with a strong, sure hand. He never knew she could be so big, so hard. 

"I could do it myself," she says, her thumb pushing back along his taint while her fingers keep stroking his cock. "I've got a couple dicks in my drawer. But what I really want is to sit back and feel myself up while you take it up the ass from some big, strong man. You never have, have you?"

Merlin shakes his head while he jerks forward into her hold, shoves back against the hard pressure of her pubic bone.

"But you've thought about it, yeah? How good it's gonna feel to have his fingers open you up? How you're gonna come with his dick in your ass?"

"I –" Merlin pants while she rides him. There are words ( _yes_ ) but they're out of reach ( _how_ ) and that seems ( _Arthur, please_ ) to be okay. She pushes and pulls and bites and growls until he yells and spends in her hand. Freya lets go of him, works her hand between his upper thigh and her wet cunt, and rubs until she comes.

It's the fourth time they've gone at it and the first time it’s gotten her off.

Her smile is shy and sweet, the Freya he knows again, when she says, "I think we should see other people."

* * *

"Freya's been missing her calling as a lesbian wingman," Elena announces as she comes in the door. "Last night was the hottest sex I've ever had in my life, and I have your ex-girlfriend to thank."

"Thanks, El, that makes me feel really awesome about our breakup."

"Oh, don't be a baby. You were missing your calling as a pining gay man and she was right to call you on it."

Merlin just frowns, because this is more or less fair. Elena also frowns, because there's a pair of men's underwear lying on the couch. Merlin shrugs, so she tosses them toward Will and Gilli's room and sits down.

"Honestly, we're both lucky to have her for a friend. She not only made me appear extra intensely desirable by holding my hand and whispering sweetly in my ear at the bar. She also realized there was no way I could bring _Morgana fucking Pendragon_ back to this shithole. So she let me use her apartment! Her actual bed, if you can believe that."

"Her text from last night makes more sense now," Merlin says evenly while his brain falls into a loop of _Morgana fucking Pendragon_ , _fucking Pendragon_ , and eventually just, _fuuuuuck_.

"You know those bars on Freya's headboard?"

Merlin knows. If Freya were here she'd smile and lower her gaze. Still, after all the filth he's heard come out of her mouth. Sometimes he really misses Freya's filthy mouth.

* * *

He gets to hear a lot more about the affair both at home and at work over the next two months, since Morgana has no more compunction over talking dildos and nipple clamps and feelings with her brother than Elena does with her roommates. 

Mostly Merlin keeps on typing, pretending the office walls are soundproof. Then one day he hears, "Listen, Morgana, I get that the cliché says men are supposed to be excited by this kind of talk, but you've known I was gay since high school. Can’t you please go write in to a porn mag so I can get some work done?"

It only takes Merlin another two months to ask Arthur out, and only two days after that to find himself naked in Arthur's bed, sucking cock for the very first time while Arthur moans and trembles and pets his hair.

It's glorious and beautiful and, just as Freya had predicted, more satisfying than any sex he’s ever had.

It's not as glorious and beautiful as he’d imagined. At first he can’t figure out what’s missing.

The fourth time they go at it (in Arthur's office, because fuck, who’s gonna complain?) Merlin asks about Arthur's fantasies. Arthur goes quiet for a minute and then turns toward the window, slowly opens the blinds.

"You want somebody to watch?" Merlin says, a grin spreading over his face as Arthur nods. "Perfect. I know just where we can go."

* * *

**#68**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Possibly underage.  
 **Text Chosen:** “I'm up in my room and I just saw a naked guy sprint out into the streets from my mom's party downstairs”

Mordred's skulking somewhere; too old for his mothers party, and to young to know that the secret to being left alone is making an appearance.

The barbecue is an annual thing. One evening in summer, the garden lights are left on, the patio doors are propped open, and Hunith's guests are given free reign of the garden, kitchen and living room.

All the neighbours are invited, because his mother wouldn’t leave anyone out. But there's never normally anyone Merlin's age. This year though, there's Arthur, from a few streets away, weaving through the crowd, looking for something.

They had kissed once, when they were fourteen and so sure they were the only gay boys for miles around.

“What you after?”

“Alcohol.”

“Sorry mate, too many kids running about.”

“Ah,”

“I can get you some wine though...”

He raids the cupboards and serves them both a half a plastic cup, while Arthur watches him, rather intently, and Merlin's surprised by the shiver that runs down his spine. It scares him, and thrills him.

If he's honest, he's not the type to take sex lightly.

If he's honest, losing his virginity will always mean something.

If he's honest.

But he wants to know what “just a fuck” is.

And he needs for Gwaine to _not be the only person he's ever fucked_.

And Arthur's gorgeous and surely that's reason enough.

“Isn't this fun” Merlin sing-songs with a grin.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, and Merlin sees his mouth twitch.

“But we could be having more fun.” Merlin says, all fake innocence and cheesy as heck.

Arthur's eyes slide to Merlin's and he's fixed with a steady, searching gaze.

“I'm sure we could.” he replies evenly.

Merlin's heart gives an electric jolt. For all he tries to act confident and sarcastic, Merlin has never done this before.

“Follow me.”

With one glance up and down the corridor, Merlin lets Arthur into the downstairs guest bedroom, slipping in afterwards. Arthur sits on the bed. Merlin goes to sit cross legged further up, and it's so awkward, that Merlin opens his mouth to apologise.

But then Arthur turns and drags Merlin closer, brings their lips together, forcing Merlin to shuffle hastily down the bed.

The kiss is steady and controlled, and Merlin doesn't like it.

They kiss just _continues_ and Merlin knows Arthur is waiting for him to chicken out. The guy is being a noble ass and he's being a coward, and this isn't hot at all, it's embarrassing.  
Merlin screws up the courage to sneak one hand under Arthur’s shirt, runs it up his side, over the slight curves of muscle and bone.

Arthur breaks the kiss and just looks at Merlin. Merlin grins as wide as he can, tugs at Arthur’s shirt until he allows it over his head, and removes his own.

Arthur’s eyes finally move from Merlin's face to his chest, his face slackening, and he runs a finger over one nipple. Merlin gives a breathless “oh,” of surprise, and then their lips collide, and this time it's desperate, and unforgiving.

They're kneeling face to face and it's hard, but Arthur somehow manages to tug both their jeans off, and then he's palming Merlin through his boxers, and the unexpected stimulation makes Merlin choke, but it leaves him bereft when it's gone as soon as it came, and Arthur's tugging their boxers off.

Arthur breaks the kiss and they both look down between them.

Arthur drags one finger from Merlin's knee, slowly, lightly, up the inside of Merlins thigh.  
Merlin fights to keep his breathing even, even though it feels as though his lungs are going to cave in, even though he gulps and trembles as the touch leaves his skin aching.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers almost reverently.

Merlin wonders suddenly if this means more to Arthur than it does to him.

“Merlin?”

Merlin's eye snap up to meet Arthur's, wide with panic.

“Mom?!?”  
Her footsteps start down the hall,

“I want you to take round the canapés. And could you distract Aiden and Jesse again? They're terrorising the cat. I'd-”

She bursts through the door and stops short, surprised

“What are you doing in bed love? Are you feeling ok?”

Upstairs, Mordred just happens to glance out his window. He then has to do a double take, because some blonde guy is stumbling from the lit front yard, out into the night. And he's completely starkers.

* * *

**#69**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Biting  
 **Text Chosen:** (605): Can you give me a hickey quick? Im going to a white trash themed party. Completely serious.

"Sooooo," Arthur said, scratching at the back of his head. "Could you, like, bite my neck now?"

"I hate you so much." Merlin rolled his eyes. "I have no idea why I agreed to this."

"Because you're my best friend ever?" Arthur tried a cheesy grin. They usually worked. Merlin only glared.

Okay, so maybe it was a weird thing to just ask your best friend. But Arthur was going to the best fancy dress party of the year and he was not going to be outdone. His costume called for a lovebite, so he was going to show up with one, even though his girlfriend dumped him last week. And he couldn't reach his own neck. Not that he'd tried. Twice.

"Pleaseee," he wheedled, sidling up to Merlin to hook his chin over Merlin's shoulder. "I'll give you one back."

"What the fuck." Merlin shrugged him off with a jerk and backed away, stopping when he hit the back of the couch. "Why the _fuck_ would I want one back?"

Arthur threw up his hands. "It could happen!" Snagging Merlin by a belt loop, he pulled him in close, keeping him there with firm hands on his hips. 

"Please." Arthur tried to look pitiful. "It would mean a lot to me. I'll give you 500 best friend points."

"That isn't a real thing." Merlin only looked vaguely annoyed now, his mouth curled up at the corner. "But I guess if I do this I can mock you until the end of time, right?"

"Right!" Arthur smiled and stretched his neck, offering it to Merlin. Merlin put hesitant hands on Arthur's shoulders, but looked reluctant to lean in.

"Not too hard," Arthur directed, "but it should be pretty dark. Pity I didn't think to ask you last night. Any time now."

"Would you shut the fuck up?" 

Merlin's teeth on his neck made Arthur suck in a breath. Heat raced down his spine, as Merlin licked gently, moved away, and then- fuck- bit harder, before starting to suck.

"Fuck." Arthur's pants were- yep- definitely were tighter. His heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to fall over. Heat was pooling in his belly, and Arthur could swear he'd never gotten half-hard this fast in his life. 

Merlin had a bit of stubble on his chin, and it scraped over Arthur's tender flesh, making Arthur clutch harder onto Merlin's hips, swaying. He was desperately trying to contain the moan threatening its way out inside his chest. The little whining sound he could hear told him he was failing.

Merlin pulled his lips away and Arthur made a choked noise. He was panting, he realized. Fuck.

"Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath but his boner was there to stay.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur opened his eyes. Merlin looked concerned.

"I'm about to come over your left thigh," Arthur blurted, then blinked as Merlin's eyes flicked down and darkened. 

He looked up at Arthur from under his lashes. "Do you want me to..."

"Fuck- Yes. Please." Arthur yanked at him by the hips, pressing their torsos together and putting Merlin back in the perfect position to suck at his neck.

Merlin picked a spot just under the first one and Arthur couldn't hold back his groan as he hitched his hips, rutting up against Merlin's thigh. 

There was more suction and licking this time- less teeth- but the rasp of stubble still sent sparks of pleasure down Arthur's spine. He cried out when he felt Merlin's hand on his cock, squeezing him through the denim.

Leaning forward, he bit at Merlin's neck, smoothing it with his tongue as he hitched his hips into Merlin's hand. 

"You're never living this down," Merlin whispered, before biting at a spot just under Arthur's jaw. It was a little too hard, but the sharp pain made Arthur come in his pants all the same. 

Arthur rode out the aftershocks before pulling away from Merlin's neck. He'd made some wicked teeth marks.

Merlin stepped away and winced as he touched his neck. "Well, I wasn't expecting reciprocation."

"Sorry." Arthur tried to look contrite, but could only manage a lazy smile. "You're the best mate."

Merlin was incredulous. "Damn right I am."

Arthur slung an arm over his shoulder. "So, wanna be my date tonight? We have matching costumes." 

Merlin shoved him.

* * *

**#70**  
 **Pairing(s):** Morgana/Gwen  
 **Warning(s):** Dub-con, vague references to torture  
 **Text Chosen:** (254) What’s the politically correct way of saying you’ve made someone your bitch?

Morgana brushed her hand gently across Gwen’s cheek and smiled cruelly when she flinched. She tried to scurry away from her but Morgana was right behind her every step of the way. Gwen only stopped running until she hit the wall and couldn’t go any further.

“Oh, Gwen I wish you wouldn’t treat me this way. We used to be good friends, remember?” Morgana asked. She reached out to tuck some hair behind Gwen’s ear and expected the flinch. It only made her smile widen.

“Don’t touch me!” Gwen shouted as she jerked away.

It caught Morgana by surprise but the smile never wavered. Instead, she pushed closer until she was practically pinning Gwen against the wall with her body.

“You never used to mind my touch, Gwen,” Morgana whispered close to her ear. “I remember the times you used to comfort me on those terrible nights and you were always eager when I returned the favor.”

Gwen shook her head. “Get away from me.”

She smiled and stepped back to walk towards the door. “I only want to be friends, Gwen and until you accept that you’re not going anywhere.”

“Wait!” Gwen cried. “Please, don’t go Morgana.”

Morgana paused and turned. “Beg me again.”

A few days of isolation had clearly began to take its toll on Gwen. She displayed weak defiance in the beginning but it was quickly fading.

“Morgana, please don’t go. Please.”

Smiling, she retraced her steps and leaned close to Gwen. “Do you want me to stay with you, Gwen?”

Gwen gave a shameful, jerky nod. It wasn’t enough for Morgana though.

“How badly do you want me to stay?” Morgana murmured. She was leaning closer to Gwen now and placed a hand on her cheek. It didn’t stay there long and began to slide down the length of her body. The touch wasn’t hesitant and while Gwen’s face said one thing her body was saying something else entirely.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Gwen whispered pitifully.

Morgana smiled and leaned down to kiss her gently. The desire she once held for Gwen was long gone but the idea taking her brother’s precious wife and Camelot’s false Queen filled her with another, darker type of desire.

A hand slid down to cup Gwen’s breast through her gown. The other woman shuddered but didn’t push her away. Gwen trembled and seemed to accept Morgana’s touch. When Morgana pinched her nipple she (very slightly) arched into her touch. It spoke volumes to Morgana because despite Gwen’s protests there was still a part of her that wanted this.

“Morgana…” she whispered.

“What, Gwen?” Morgana asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her soon touches grew firmer and bolder. A hand hiked up Gwen’s dirty gown and pressed against her folds.

The more Morgana moved her fingers inside Gwen the quieter her attempted protests became. It wasn’t long before the supposed Queen of Camelot was silently begging her to move her fingers faster and touch her more.

“Come for me, Gwen.”

Gwen came with a small shudder. When Morgana pulled away she slumped to the floor and started to cry softly.

“I’ll see you later for dinner, Gwen.”

She gasped. “Morgana, no! You said you wouldn’t leave me alone again!”

After she closed the door behind her Morgana could hear the screams and pleas from Gwen. The sound of her cries only reaffirmed the fact that her plan was indeed working. It wouldn’t be long before Arthur was dead and she (the rightful heir) took her place on Camelot’s throne.

Morgana only had to wait and by now she was very good at waiting.

* * *

**#71**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** Slight geekiness, bad puns  
 **Text Chosen:** (401): You are the sheppard guiding my vagina away from horrible decisions. (http://tfl.nu/pgpr)

My Own Commander

"We're dressed wrong!" Gwen exclaimed, giggling and resting heavily against Morgana. "You're the witch, you should be Morrigan. But then I wouldn't have my own Commander to rescue me." 

Gwen frowned at Morgana, the expression about as adorable as a puzzled cat, and Morgana couldn't resist swooping in to kiss Gwen on the nose. "You look better in the dress than I do."

"The corset does do wonders, doesn't it?" Gwen glanced down while reaching up to cup her boobs, pushing them up even higher. 

"You tease," Morgana murmured, staring down at Gwen's cleavage. "You're the perfect Morrigan." 

It took a moment, but Morgana untangled herself from Gwen, pushing her back against the wall. There was a heavy bass line playing in the next room that Morgana could feel echoing in her bones and pooling low in her stomach, and without preamble, she dropped to her knees.

The skirt Gwen was wearing was huge and poofy, but there was only one petticoat beneath it, so Morgana was easily able to slip beneath it and spread Gwen's legs with her shoulders, settling between them.

"Morgana!" Gwen squeaked, scandalized despite the tequila she'd imbibed. Morgana could picture the red flush blooming on her cheeks, tinting her skin even darker. 

It was dark beneath the skirt, but Morgana wasn't concerned about that; she knew Gwen's body nearly as well as her own, and her fingers found her slit with unerring skill. What did trip her up was the absence of material - Gwen had forgone panties. 

"Fuck," Morgana breathed, pressing a kiss to Gwen's inner thigh and dragging her mouth up the soft skin there, so she could flick her tongue across Gwen's clit, the nub already hard. Morgana could picture Gwen, mouth open on a silent moan and eyes wild, chest heaving. The fact that Morgana couldn't see her made the thought so much hotter.

Normally, Morgana would take her time, teasing and tormenting until Gwen was sobbing, trembling with pleasure and begging Morgana for release. But those were sights only she could see, and the threat of someone discovering them loomed ever so close. She'd have to settle for something quick and fast, fingers and tongue working together to bring Gwen off.

She slid two fingers inside Gwen, alternating between curling them to press against her g-spot and scissoring to stretch her wider. Gwen didn't like clitoral stimulation until she was closer to orgasm, and that gave Morgana a chance to just lick at her slit, teasing and nipping at the labia and occasionally sliding her tongue inside Gwen's pussy, right next to her fingers. 

Morgana could feel Gwen's fingers against her scalp, although it was faint and they didn't remain there for long - the skirt was far too bulky to allow her to hold on. Morgana could imagine her fingers scrambling against the wall, desperate for purchase but finding none. The struggle to remain upright was a tense one.

Gwen's thighs started to tense and Morgana moved her tongue, finding Gwen's clit once again and drawing it into her mouth, and slid a third finger inside her girlfriend, curling and thrusting. It didn't take long before she was squirting, drenching Morgana's hand and her chin. Morgana kept fucking her through it, feeling Gwen tremble. There were muffled moans, and Morgana wasn't sure if they were muffled from the skirt or Gwen clamping a hand over her mouth, or both. 

A minute later, Morgana drew away, fighting her way from beneath the skirt. Gwen was leaning heavily against the wall, chest heaving in the corset, her eyes glazed. The Halloween party was still going on in the house around them, but Morgana wanted nothing more than to escape to their apartment and curl up against her girlfriend. 

"Let's go home," she said, giving Gwen a brief kiss. She expected no protest and when none followed, she grasped Gwen's hand, dragging her away.

-

Gwen: _You are the sheppard guiding me straight away from horrible decisions._

Gwen typed out the message and hit send, listening to the vibration from Morgana's phone on the nightstand nearest Morgana. 

Gwen: _Straight. Hehe._

Gwen: _Get it? You were Shepard and shepherding me away from the tequila._

"No texting me in bed," Morgana mumbled, flapping a hand in Gwen's direction. "And you better not be making terrible straight or Shepard puns or so help me I'm tying you up later."

* * *

**#72**  
 **Pairing(s:)** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (936) It's a little weird I'm blowing my wingman. (Based loosely on this)

Merlin’s breath hitched. His knees felt weak and he grasped the edge of the table harder. This was never how he imagined himself; pushed against Arthur’s dining table, breeches down to his ankles, and the prince of Camelot on his knees in front of the servant, lips wrapped around Merlin’s cock.

Arthur teased his slit, making Merlin cry out. He shoved his fist in his mouth. It wouldn’t do to have the guards rush into the room, finding them like this. 

“So beautiful.” Arthur murmured, moving to press kisses against Merlin’s hip. Merlin tangled his fingers in Arthur’s hair, scraping lightly against his scalp. 

Arthur moaned, the vibrations against Merlin’s cock were too much for him, and he came into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur pulled off coughing and sputtering, trying to swallow as much of the cum as he could, but a little escaped past his lips. 

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out with his thumb to wipe it off. 

Arthur looked up at him with big eyes, taking Merlin’s thumb into his mouth and sucking off the cum with expertise.

As Merlin reached down and pulled his breeches back on Arthur stood up, walking to his place at the table as is he had never just sucked off his servant.

“Where did that come from?” Merlin smiled, tucking himself back in and moving to pour the prince’s wine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Merlin.” Arthur said, beginning to eat his food without ever once looking up at Merlin. 

“You know.” Merlin ducked his head shyly. “What just happened. You sucked me off-”

“I did no such thing.” Arthur argued, still refusing to meet Merlin’s eyes. 

Why was Arthur refusing to acknowledge what just happened? Merlin wondered. He put down the jug of wine and moved around Arthur’s room, tidying up any stray objects Arthur left laying about.

After a few moment’s Arthur sighed. “What happened back there, Merlin, can never leave this room. If anyone were to know I got on my knees for a servant- the scandal would be too much for anyone. My father would be ashamed.”

Merlin turned to face the prince with a wry smile on his face. “You’re father would be ashamed his son was a cock-sucking whore?”  
“Mer-lin.” Arthur warned with only a voice a prince could muster. But Merlin could see his face turning red, the truth burning through.

Merlin walked slowly towards Arthur, each step slow and with purpose. “So what you’re saying is, that so long as you are in here, you can do whatever you wish, be the cock-sucker everyone would hate to see.”

Arthur’s face blushed a deeper red; Merlin could see that his commanding tone had an affect on the prince. Arthur nodded sharply.

“You want to suck cock.” Merlin teased. “You want to shed your duties, be lower than a prince.” He raked his fingers in Arthur’s hair, pulling in a way that made Arthur moan. 

“How about-” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear. “In your rooms, you be that little slut you want to be. Suck my cock whenever I feel like it. Be fucked if it so pleases you.” Arthur squirmed in his seat, trying to cover the erection in his lap. “And I’ll never speak a word of it if you be a good boy.”

Arthur cried out as Merlin turned the chair around, climbing into Arthur lap for a fierce, hot kiss.

Outside the bedroom, Arthur would be a prince, and Merlin his klutzy servant.

But in the bedroom, Merlin ruled, and no one would ever see what a great little cock-sucker his slut could be.


	4. Group D (warnings)

**#73**  
 **Pairing(s):** Intended Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None, besides bad interior decorating!  
 **Text Chosen:**  
(407): I'll be there in 10. I need you naked and ready. Warm up.

* * *

**#74**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Gwen  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Text Chosen:** (646): I may not go down in history but I will definitely go down on your sister

* * *

**#75**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (503): He's helping me study for the final by writing the vocab words all over his body.

* * *

**#76**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwen/Morgana  
 **Warning(s):** porny, but err none?  
 **Text Chosen:** http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-48815.html

* * *

**#77**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (206): he started frosting cupcakes and licking the mini-spatula realllllly deliberately and i don't know if i'm more attracted to him or the cupcakes

* * *

**#78**  
 **Pairing(s):** Gwaine/Leon  
 **Warning(s):** dub-con  
 **Text Chosen:** (516): He's been grabbing my ass as a greeting since 2004, sex was overdue

* * *

**#79**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Non  
 **Text Chosen:** 5% want to drink juice and feel better, 95% just want to touch your butt

* * *

Hangovers are a pain in the bum

* * *

**#80**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin / Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Mature  
 **Text Chosen:** Frankly, since I met you, I practically exist in a state of constant readiness for sex.

* * *

**#81**  
 **Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin?  
 **Warning(s):** None  
 **Text Chosen:** (571): I guess there's no delicate way to say "I'm 90% sure I sucked his dick in the bathroom of the bar."

* * *

**#82**  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** none!  
 **Text Chosen:** "(360): I'm slightly more gay than I thought. I'd go so far as to say I'm a top."- found on merthurtextsfromcamelot

* * *


	5. Group A (clean)

**#1**

Merlin pushed his face into his pillow, in denial about the fact it was 3am and his door was banging. When it persisted, he dragged himself out of bed to answer it. 

_This better be good,_ he warned whatever fates were determined to give him the night from hell.

He'd barely got the door open when someone else came through it, grabbing his face and snogging the living daylights out of him before he could so much as say good morning.

_Point made,_ he told the universe, regarding his previous comment to it.

When he was released, he was surprised to see his assailant was none other than Arthur Pendragon. Which would have been fine had Arthur not been Gwen's somewhat prattish, arrogant, seemingly straight boyfriend. Which again, would have been alright if Gwen wasn't one of his best friends. Which again, would probably have been just dandy if Merlin didn’t have the most inappropriate, infuriating crush on him.

"I broke up with Guinevere," Arthur said by way of explanation, which was no explanation at all really. 

Merlin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying _good_. She was his friend after all. "What happened?" he asked instead.

"The long version or the short version?"

"What the hell, it's only three in the morning, the night is young, let's have the long version," Merlin sighed.

"Guinevere and I decided it would be mutually beneficial to see other people due certain incompatibilities, such as the fact she’s fallen for another man and so have I.”

“Wait, so you’re gay?” Merlin asked as Arthur took a step towards him, distracting him from working out what the rest meant. He knew about Lance but Arthur... was here with him. It would explain a lot, the break up for one, the kiss for another and the rather obvious erection that was pressing against his thigh now they were so close for a third. "And the short version?"

"Is that I," Arthur started, leaning into him until their lips practically touched, both breathing the same air, not daring to break the almost unbearable tension. "Really want you to fuck me."

Merlin let out the breath Arthur's proximity had halted. He knew he shouldn't but if Arthur knew about Lance, maybe Gwen knew about this. Maybe she gave her blessing. Maybe she was upside down, hanging off the bed by now - _ah fuck it_ , he decided, launching himself at Arthur the same way Arthur had done to him.

It took no time at all to get Arthur out of his clothes, though somehow they still didn’t have time to make it to the bed, making do with the nearby sofa. Half of him knew that they couldn’t really fuck, not on ninety seconds notice but just as he was about to say so, Arthur straddled his legs and guided his fingers towards his hole, already stretched and lubed up for him.

“Well, you came prepared,” Merlin couldn’t help but say. “Boy scout?”

“Merlin,” Arthur demanded impatiently, grinding down into Merlin’s lap.

“Alright, calm down,” Merlin said, pushing down his check pyjama bottoms so Arthur could slide agonizingly slowly down onto his cock. He closed his eyes against the heat, again asking the universe what the hell it was playing at while adamantly not complaining about it. Arthur gripped the back of the sofa, using it to anchor himself as he rolled his hips taking Merlin deeper, over and over, the sensation threatening to overwhelm him. His final thought before spilling himself inside Arthur was there was that he certainly wasn’t new at this.

The next morning, having finally made it to bed, Merlin woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He leaned over Arthur to get it, glancing down at him guiltily when Gwen's name flashed across the screen.

"Did you tell her you were coming here?" Merlin asked.

"Not exactly..." Arthur said.

"What did you say then?" Merlin asked watching the call go through to voicemail.

“It’s not you, it’s me?” Arthur said, cringing at it himself.

“You can’t tell her that. Nobody actually says that and means it. She’ll think it’s her, even though it’s _clearly_ not.” Merlin shook his head and opened up his messages, hitting the most recent one from Gwen.

_Just banged your ex. So it really is 'him, not you' in that he's gay._ Merlin paused then added, _Rodeo champion gay._

“There, fixed it. You’re welcome.” Merlin said, throwing his phone onto the bedside table. “Fancy another go?”

* * *

**#2**

"You mean your bucket list," Merlin says giving him an irritated look as he slouches back into the car seat. 

"Don't you even want to try? " Arthur ignores the way that came out almost too plaintively. 

Merlin sighs and shakes his head a little. Arthur feels a sharp sense of fondness as he watches Merlin frown biting down on his lower lip. That quickly changes to arousal as thoughts of those lips wrapped around his cock pop into his head. 

"And you really think that you won't crash the car? Pretty sure that's why the guy made it onto the evening news." 

"What?" Arhur asks distractedly, pushing thoughts of Merlin on his knees aside and trying to pay attention to the road. "I'm not going to crash. Look I'm pretty sure I can handle it." 

"Oh," Merlin replies, going still beside him, "And what do you mean by that?" 

Arthur completely misses the odd inflection in Merlin's voice. "That I can still drive and get a blow job at the same time." 

"What do I get if you can't? " 

"I'll go to that music festival with you." "Really? " Merlin asks incredulously, "You've refused every time I even thought about bringing it up." 

"Yeah well, your taste in music leaves much to be desired."

"Says the person with all of One Directions music on their phone."

"You like them too," Artur says, "And I heard you and Gwen cooing over Harry."

"We didn't coo and my music taste has always been bad according to you."

"And," Arthur adds ignoring him, "If I can't, I'll hang out with Will willingly the next time he's in town. " 

Merlin tilts his head in consideration, his mouth giving way to a slow smirk, "You're on." 

He leans in close, and Arthur is suddenly glad that they're at a stop light as Merlin murmurs low to his ear, "But you're going to lose. " 

Arthur shifts as he tries not to react to the promise in Merlin's voice but the smug look Merlin gives him as he glances down at Arhur's lap says otherwise.

::::: 

It doesn't happen until they're driving through the long back roads of the Welsh countryside two weeks later that Merlin unbuckles his seat belt, twisting in his car seat and sliding his hand up Arthur's thigh, his palm warm through the fabric of Arthur's trousers. 

His fingers dart to Arthur's fly and deftly he pulls it down, hand firmly wrapping around Arthur's cock. Arthur nearly swerves off the road. 

"Some warning would've been nice, " Arthur says, voice faltering as Merlin strokes him through his boxers. Merlin gives him an arched look, amusement evident in his voice, "Consider this your warning. " 

Moments later when Merlin's mouth is warm around his cock, his tongue teasing across the slit, Arthur's fingers are clenching at Merlin's hair. There are no cars in front of him as far as he can see, and he's suddenly very glad that Merlin picked now of all times. 

Merlin's gives a sharp pull and Arthur head thuds back against the head rest, eyes fluttering shut as he shudders out a breath. 

There's a loud pop and cool air and Arthur blinks at Merlin. "You aren't paying attention to the road. Are you meaning to drive into the ditch. "

It takes Arthur another second to look away from swollen red lips and the half-lidded eyes to realize that he was steadily driving off the road. With a quick pull of the steering wheel Arthur brings them back on the road. 

"I thought you said you can drive while getting a blow job, " Merlin says teasingly. 

"And I thought you were in the middle of said blow job," Arthur replies annoyed, the past few minutes doing nothing to his state of arousal. 

"Prat, Merlin replies almost fondly, his fingers wrapping once again around Arthur. 

"And yet you still love---" Arthur starts, breaking off as Merlin mouth slides over him again, tongue flittering across the underside of his shaft.   
Arthur tries to part his hips wider to give Merlin more room while trying not to take his foot off the accelerator. He has to place both hands on the steering wheel as Merlin bobs up and down, fingers gripping tensely as he tries to pay attention but its like he really isn't seeing the road lost in the feel of Merlin's warm mouth. 

A Merlin manages to reach down, fingers teasing his balls and a low hum working across his throat, Arthur pulls the car sharply aside off the road to park, hands then coming to curl through Merlin's hair. 

Merlin picks up the pace as Arthur tightens his fingers, his hips tensed as he tries hard not to rock up. Merlin hums low and Arthur shudders as he comes hard. 

Panting heavily as Merlin sucks him through before coming up breathing loudly. 

Frantically Merlin tugs at his own pants but Arthur knocks his hand aside before unzipping him and with a few quick pulls, Merlin's coming as well and Arthur pulling him through it. 

Merlin leans heavily against him and breathing loudly for a few seconds. 

"That was," Merlin starts. 

"Yeah," Arthur manages weakly. 

"You're not allowed to make fun of him. Or at least no fighting.," Merlin says after a moment.   
"Fine," Arthur says grudgingly before pressing Merlin a quick kiss.

* * *

**#3**

“Long live the Queen!” Merlin chokes on the words a little, swallows. “Long live the Queen,” he shouts along with the others, but the odd lump in his throat won’t budge. Traitorous tears push through despite his best efforts.

_People will think they’re happy tears_ , he hopes. And he is happy: happy for Gwen, glowing in her crown. Happy for Arthur, too, for finding love, and maybe even peace. He is definitely _not_ crying for himself, for what he’s lost wasn’t his to lose in the first place.

He slips from the main hall, where the celebrations are slowly winding down, and wanders toward the eastern rampart. Camelot looks best from here, he thinks, where the icy stars shine in the black sky. He tells himself he’s facing the dawn, even though the sunrise is hours away. Merlin won’t allow himself to think about the married couple ensconced in their chambers, nor how daybreak will find them.

The stones are hard and cold under his elbows when he leans heavily on the wall. His tankard of wine is half-empty next to him, abandoned. He’s not sure he’d be able to swallow now anyway. 

“Don’t think he doesn’t care about you,” Gwaine says, startling Merlin. He sits down next to Merlin on the wall and takes a gulp from the jug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?”

“Camelot needs a queen. Princess may be a first class arsehole, but he’d never take advantage of you in this way. He’d never make you his—“

“No, he wouldn’t.” Merlin nods, not pretending that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He takes a long breath, wishing the choking sensation would leave him.

“It suits you,” Gwaine says.

Gwaine’s hand is on his robes, fingers playing idly with the fabric near Merlin’s throat. He’s a hairsbreadth away from touching Merlin’s skin. There’s something about the gesture that makes Merlin feel… _better_.

“I need to give it back tomorrow,” he says of the borrowed raiment.  
Gwaine’s palm moves to cup Merlin’s head gently. Merlin can feel the warmth of his body, can smell the sweet wine on Gwaine’s breath. 

He lets his gaze lock with Gwaine’s. He nods, a light movement, barely there.   
“Let them have their night,” Gwaine says, caressing Merlin’s neck with his fingers. “Tonight let’s celebrate not being married.”

When he kisses Merlin it’s hard and urgent. His beard scratches Merlin’s skin. _This is good_ , Merlin thinks as he tangles his own fingers in Gwaine’s hair, tugging hard. 

Gwaine smiles against the kiss and pulls on Merlin in return, baring Merlin’s throat so he can bite it lightly.

***

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Gwaine asks.

“Of course.” Merlin huffs, breathless a bit, because Gwaine’s oil-slicked fingers are knuckles-deep inside him. And maybe Gwaine should’ve asked before instead of after they’d stumbled onto Merlin’s cot, naked and impatient. “M’not—“ He gasps when Gwaine pulls his fingers out, holds Merlin’s thighs open, and pushes his cock inside Merlin’s stretched arse, hard. “M’not a hermit.”

And then it doesn’t matter that Gwaine’s eyes are the wrong colour, that his hair is long and curly, and that his voice is different than the one Merlin wants to hear. What matters is the beautiful stretch inside of Merlin, this feeling of his magic building up, leaking out of his body like a golden mist, clearing space for breath so he can finally inhale freely. And if a broken moan escapes him on an exhale, at least it clears the lump away. 

What matters is that he feels better. Maybe not best, but _better_ , and he’ll take it.

As they lie there later, entangled and spent, the magic that had flared up before settles down inside Merlin. He feels Gwaine’s seed slowly trickling out, and his own come drying on his stomach.

Gwaine entwines his fingers with Merlin’s, pulling him closer, and Merlin lets him.

***

“I won't tell,” Gwaine says in the morning, tying up the laces of his breeches.

“I don't mind,” Merlin mutters. It’s not like anyone would be shocked. Gwaine has a reputation, after all.

“No.” Gwaine shakes his head, pulling on his shoes. “Not this. I won't tell about the magic. I'll take your secret to the grave if I have to.”

He kisses Merlin on the cheek and is gone.

* * *

**#4**

“Oh my god, you didn’t.”

Merlin smiles and takes a pull of his cigarette. 

“No, Merlin,” Will says. “Merlin. Merlin. Merls.”

“Calm down, will you,” Merlin mutters. 

“I’ll calm down when you tell me that you absolutely _did not_ sleep with your boss.”

Merlin shrugs and smiles again. He nods in the direction of Will’s hand. Will impatiently flicks his own cigarette and Merlin’s gaze follows the ashes’ delicate fall to the ground. “I did,” is all he says.

“Fuck,” Will’s eloquent reaction comes out coated in a puff of grey smoke. 

“Yeah,” Merlin agrees. They’re quiet for about a minute until Will’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Have you even slept with Arthur yet?” He asks. Merlin shakes his head as he bends down and stubs his cigarette on the ground between his feet. Will follows him a second later and they drop then butts in Merlin's empty coffee cup. “Shit. Do you still want to?”

Merlin puts the cup on the bench next to him and stretches his legs in front of himself, taking his time to reply. "Kinda. And if he's anything like his dad..."

"That good?"

Merlin chuckles, then rubs his eyes and sighs. It's way too early for this, but he asked for it. He has to to talk to someone before he goes to work and faces Arthur - colleague, best friend, and as of last night - son of the man who shagged Merlin's brains out. Twice.

"That good, Will," Merlin says, heaving another sigh. "It was fucking impressive."

Will just stares at him for a moment and Merlin can almost see him struggling between curiosity and his wish to have as little intimate knowledge of Merlin’s love life as possible.

“Okay, fuck, I’ll ask. How was it?”

“He was… gentle. Much more than you’d expect,” Merlin muses, remembering the way Uther had slowly undressed him and kissed and worshipped every bit of skin revealed. The way he’d sucked his cock with something akin to reverence; made Merlin moan and gasp whenever Uther sunk down low enough for his stubble to scratch the tender skin of Merlin’s thighs.

“Gentle,” Will repeats.

“Yeah… Until I didn’t want him to be gentle anymore.”

“Jesus, Merls.”

“Yeah,” Merlin chuckles. It sends shivers down his spine when he remembers the tight grip Uther had on Merlin’s hips, the way he chuckled before he thrust into him, fast, _hard._

“So… do you have a thing for older men, now?”

“No,” Merlin laughs. “I think I got a thing for Uther, though.” He’s not sure if that thing is anything more than a massive boner.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know,” Merlin sighs. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“A couple of times,” Will nods. 

“Well he’s… You know how he’s really posh and… proper, yeah?” Will nods again. “It kinda hot. But it gets even hotter when he drops it all.”

It wasn’t just hot, it was fucking disarming. Merlin had felt an odd kind of nervousness when he’d knocked on Uther’s door last night, even if the case they had to discuss wasn’t particularly complicated. And then Uther had opened the door, wearing slacks and a t-shirt and a friendly smile, appearing the exact opposite of Merlin was used to seeing. Merlin would have dropped on his knees to suck him off even if it wasn’t for the pleasant, almost intimate conversation they’d ended up having over a glass of wine. 

“I spent the night,” Merlin says. _Woke up to him moving closer and wrapping a hand around my cock. Rode him and screamed his name, still loose from last night, not even an hour ago._ “Arthur’s gonna know.”

“What, Uther’s gonna tell him?” Will startles.

“What? No, of course not,” feeling sick at the mere notion. “He’ll notice I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He always does,” he mutters, unwilling to think about Arthur paying close attention to him right now.

“Shit, Merls.” 

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That I don’t know.”

They’re silent for another minute, and then Merlin’s phone vibrates, notifying him of a text from an unknown number.

>

“Shit,” Merlin groans. His phone buzzes again.

>

Merlin laughs. “I should go.”

“Good luck, mate,” Will says and pats his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he laughs again. ”Thanks.”

* * *

**#5**

The last thing Merlin expected after an amazing weekend of being fucked was to wake up to the form of someone rustling through the drawers directly in his field of vision. A distinctly female form. With a great ass..

And Merlin could tell she had a great ass because her naked body was protected from his gaze only by a thin lilac robe.

As such Merlin felt completely justified with his response because, seriously, who the fuck robs someone in only a robe?

***

“Who the fuck are you?”

The random half-naked woman jumps at the sound of his voice and turns to meet him; her great arse apparently attached to a great face as her dark eyes widen and a blush forms across her cheeks.

Belatedly Merlin realizes that he is completely naked and probably giving the ‘random half-naked women’ a show, but he really can’t care when stands before him with her robe untied and all he can see is boobs.

Really, really great boobs.

***

Random half-naked woman stares at him mouth agape as she takes in his form and Merlin would laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, except well, boobs.

And it would be unfair to laugh at her when he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from the perfection that is her bosom. 

Random half-naked woman finally breaks the mexican stand-off of silence and awkward staring by letting out an adorable squeak and a long string of indecipherable words until Merlin breaks the incoherent rambling by heaving himself off the bed to place his hand across her mouth.

***

“Okay, I don’t know who you are,” Merlin says gently, as if approaching a startled rabbit, “but I need you stop and take a breath.”

Random half-naked women nods and Merlin can feel her calming herself under his touch.

“Alright, so let’s start this again,” Merlin grins as he takes a step back, “Hello stranger! My name is Merlin. Now, who the fuck are you?”

The woman smiles back at him in good humour as she breaks into a little giggle, and Merlin wishes he was less of a lecherous perv because that does wonderful things to her bosom and he’s back to staring at her boobs.

The random half-naked woman reaches her hand out to him breaking his trance as he accepts it into his own. His skin prickles as they move their hands in the universal gesture of greeting, and then she speaks.

***

“Hello, my name is Gwen,” she says and Merlin is shocked to find she speaks in soothing honeyed tones quite unlike the high strung mess she was before. “And I’m really sorry to disturb you but I was just grabbing some of my clothes.”

Merlin furrows his brow in confusion. 

“But why are your clothes in here?” 

Gwen smiles, a slow grin blooming across her features as amusement glints into her eyes.

“Didn’t Arthur tell you?” she asks gesturing to the slumbering body in the bed beside them; Merlin’s latest weekend shag, blanket hog and all round prat who apparently sleeps like the dead.

“Tell me what?” he questions as if feeling himself being led to the gallows. Her amusement a deep foreboding omen in the air.

“I’m his wife.”

***

Merlin finds three things out that morning while eating breakfast naked with Gwen:

1) Sleeping with someone who has an open marriage is not a bad thing.  
2) Gwen Pendragon is possibly the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet. Adorably awkward and yet so charming that Merlin is somewhat tempted to steal her for himself.  
3) Arthur Pendragon is a complete and utter clotpole.

***

It should feel awkward when Merlin kisses Gwen by the breakfast bar as they tidy up their dishes, but they’re both still naked and instead it feels almost inevitable, like two friends finding their way together, rather than passionate.

Merlin reveals in the familiarity of it all, laughing at Gwens’ giggles as he hoists her up onto the breakfast bar, groping her magnificent behind in the process. 

He bites back a grin as Gwen hooks one of her feet behind him to draw him closer between her legs, one of her hands sliding into his hair for a firm grip as they kiss while the other slides up and down his body in a soft caress.

Sex with Gwen is all fun and comfort and yet, inexplicably, everything feels ten times hotter when a drawling voice appears from the doorway.

“You’re not starting without me are you?,” Arthur asks in a tone of fake outrage.

Gwen winks at him before turning to Arthur.

“I don’t know, _husband_ , I was thinking of keeping this one all to myself.”

* * *

**#6**

And I Thought The World Would Revolve

Merlin tore through the room like the worst sort of hurricane. The dishes rattled in the cupboards as he passed, magic roiling unchecked through to the ends of his fingertips. Merlin had no time to waste; he’d have to leave anything he couldn’t carry, his magic could no longer be trusted to-

“-Merlin!”

To lock the door behind him. 

Arthur stood flushed and gasping for air in the entryway. His eyes flickered towards the half-packed bag,   
then back to Merlin, who curled inwards under his gaze. 

“Merlin,” he said, “please. You have to-no, I’m, please listen to me: if you need a place to hide out, let me help you. If you’re leaving just, fuck, give me a week- no, three days. I’ll go with you. But if this is about what happened at the parade-“ 

Merlin laughed. It came out ragged, manic. 

“Arthur I’ve been made. Everyone saw-”

“-No that’s the thing, I was the only one close enough to get a good look, and I’d never turn you in.”

“Really, Arthur? Well, I guess I can stop now that I have your word, maybe you could talk to your father, ask the Commissioner to call off the manhunt for Emrys? Ask him nicely to repeal the Deadly Force authorization?”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was anguished, like every word out of Merlin’s mouth was stripping layers off him. The dishes continued to rattle menacingly, several plates escaping the cupboard to hurl themselves at the floor. A tense grinding noise told Merlin that the furniture was moving again, pulled towards where he and Arthur stood like magnets towards a pole. If he could see himself he suspected his eyes would be ringed gold. 

Merlin held up a hand when Arthur made to take a step closer. Blood roared in his ears. 

“Arthur, don’t. I can’t control it right now- it’s been haywire ever since you-“ 

“Since I kissed you?” 

Arthur’s hands were raised, palms outward, like he was being held at gun point. He took another step forward and the contents of the cupboard emptied themselves violently on the floor. 

“Merlin,” he said softly, “do you remember the first time we met?”

Merlin’s hands were shaking. He tried to hide them in his pockets but Arthur‘s eyes caught the movement.

“You called me an ambulance chaser and a filthy journo shitbag.”

Arthur choked out a laugh. 

“One out of two isn’t bad I guess. But I meant the part after that, where you pulled me out of a collapsing building and rode in the ambulance with me all the way to the hospital.”   
Merlin closed his eyes and lets Arthur draw his hands out of his pockets, lean into Merlin’s space until their foreheads were touching. 

“I don’t think you can hurt me,” he said simply. 

“Just wait,” Merlin said. His eyes were wet. “Maybe it’s not me; maybe it’s the next building I can’t pull you out of. Maybe it’s the next Supervillain with a death ray.” 

“I’m an EMT, I’m used to crazy.”

Arthur kissed the corner over Merlin’s eyes, the part that crinkled up when he laughed. He brushed his lips over the bridge of Merlin’s nose, the bow of his mouth. The touch made Merlin gasp and the electricity in the house short-circuit. 

“Is that going to happen every time I kiss you?” Arthur asked, bemused. 

“I…I don’t have much data to compare it to,” Merlin admits. “Arthur that’s not the point I have to go-”

Arthur kissed him full in the mouth. Merlin saw fireworks, literally and figuratively. The living room erupted into showers of sparks. He let his eyes flutter closed and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Arthur moved a hand to the small of his back, fingers brushing the sliver of skin where his shirt had ridden up. Each touch was like a forest fire manifest on the surface of Merlin’s skin. He gave in and let it devour him, let Arthur’s hands burn through him until he was shivering and gasping for oxygen. 

The armoire from the bedroom had migrated into the living room with the other furniture, and was the only thing propping Merlin upright as Arthur left a wet trail from his raw mouth to the hollow of his throat. 

Arthur body bracketed Merlin, swallowing the space between them. His fingers dragged lower and lower over Merlin’s waistband until Merlin could do nothing but moan and twist his fingers in Arthur’s shirt, scrabble at his shoulders for purchase.

He had the answer to every unasked question in the feverish tide of Arthur's touches: they’d fly together, they’d burn together. Intertwined they were Icarus triumphant in the face of one thousand suns.

* * *

**#7**

He ignores it for as long as he can. Every so often, though, he catches a glint of gold or a flash of red out of the corner of his eye; he hears the heave of dragon wings beyond the wind. 

There's no room in this world for things like that, however, and Merlin puts them out of mind.

Then the apples appear.

*

The apples do not rot. They remain fresh and fragrant as if just picked, even after a couple days in the stairwell. 

*

Three days after their appearance, Merlin sits on the top step with one smooth, round green apple heavy in the palm of his hand. He catches the scent of apple blossoms and cold water just before the sweet-tart taste explodes over his tongue. 

He takes another bite and stands. "I'm ready now." 

When he glances over his shoulder after unlocking his door, the stairwell is clear once more, though the faint scent of apple blossom lingers. 

* 

Merlin expects to wake up to a world changed. Instead, he wakes to another drizzly morning, another bus commute, another Thursday lunch at the corner cafe. 

"Are you alright? You seem distracted." 

Merlin shrugs and glances up from his coffee and sandwiches. Arthur's frowning at him, and he looks a little worn out from working too many hours at the barristers' chambers. He smiles when Merlin touches his hand and Merlin sees it at last: the glint of gold beyond the blue of his eyes. 

"Oh," he says, and " _Arthur._ " 

*

"Arthur," he says again, breathing the name against Arthur's neck. "You knew." 

"Not really? Well. I think I've always known," he finally says and skims his hands down Merlin's chest. 

"You could've--"

"No. I couldn't take this from you." He smiles and rests his hands at Merlin's hips; for a moment he is the king Merlin laid to rest beneath a banner of red and gold. 

Then he is Arthur, only his Arthur, who spends too much time at work and who spends the rest of his time with his family and his boyfriend, who smiles broadly every Thursday just as he walks into the cafe, who stays every weekend at Merlin's tiny flat. 

Merlin tips his head back and closes his eyes; he can remember the first time Arthur kissed his shoulders and his chest, in this life and in another previous, and the memories make this time feel just like those firsts. 

He laughs when Arthur walks him backwards into the bed and pulls Arthur down on top of him, smiling into the kisses and breathing in the scent of warm skin. 

"You had magic then," Arthur murmurs, kissing his way down Merlin's body to his stomach where he nuzzles gently. "I think you still do."

"Maybe. It doesn't matter anymore." 

"It does to me."

The world is changed, though, and Merlin is glad for it; he's glad for this ordinary life and the magic that skirts its edges. 

And while there may no longer be room for magic in this ordinary world, Merlin feels it spark along his senses when Arthur touches him. He doesn't need the memories anymore, because his body and his breath remember for him. Merlin arches up into the touch of Arthur's mouth on his skin, twists into the kisses Arthur traces along the curve of his hipbone. 

"I feel like I can learn you all over again now that there is nothing forgotten between the two of us." 

Arthur does just that; he presses his lips to Merlin's body in as many places as he can, as if discovering for the first time the way that his mouth on the instep of Merlin's foot makes Merlin cry out or how he shudders from somewhere deep inside when Arthur murmurs against his ears. 

Merlin's already hard by the time Arthur touches his cock and when he says Arthur's name this time, his voice is low and ragged, as if he's just learning how to use it again. He comes so hard for Arthur that it feels like he's relearning himself, too, how his body works and how his breath comes in cries and gasps that he cannot control.

* * *

**#8**

“Come on, Arthur, nobody expects you to actually go through with this,” Merlin protests, Arthur’s hand clamped around his forearm the only reason he’s still following the prat. 

“I keep my promises,” Arthur grits out, throwing the door to his bathroom open and jabbing at the light switch. “Now sit.” He pushes Merlin to sit down on the closed toilet lid. 

“Gwaine won’t know if we lie to him about totally doing the thing,” Merlin says, looking everywhere but at Arthur who’s stripping right in front of him. 

“No,” Arthur replies, punctuating the word with a T-shirt tossed at Merlin’s head. 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” he asks, shrugging off the piece of clothing and averting his eyes quickly as Arthur’s bare arse comes into view. This is not going to end well.

“The bet was your idea.” Arthur steps into the shower, but doesn’t bother to close the door.

“That was before Gwaine came up with this.”

“Oh, Merlin, don’t tell me you’re scared to do it.”

“Scared? Me? They’re your family jewels, not mine,” Merlin replies, glaring at Arthur, bare butt or not. Right at that moment, Arthur turns and makes a good show of cleaning the said jewels. He looks up, scowling at Arthur whose grin only widens.

“I trust you to take good care of them,” he says in a low husky tone that does nothing to calm Merlin’s erratic heartbeat. 

“Fuck,” Merlin mutters, burying his face in his hands and thinking about making a run for it. But he knows he’d never live it down.

“Well?” Arthur says and geez, how the hell did Arthur manage to go from soaking wet to dry and spread out on a towel with all the stuff they would need right next to him in such a short amount of time? “I’m waiting,” Arthur teases, spreading his thighs a little bit wider, but this time Merlin can see a bit of uncertainty and tension under his act. 

“Should I tell Gwaine that you didn’t have balls for it?” The smirk is back and it gives Merlin the much needed push to kneel down between Arthur’s legs. 

“Start with this,” Arthur orders, handing him a bottle of jojoba oil. “It goes all over the…”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin interrupts him, pouring some oil into his palm, letting in warm. “It’s not like I’ve never done this to myself.”

“Really?” Arthur asks, his breath hitching slightly when Merlin starts massaging the oil into all the necessary areas. 

“So far, so good?” Merlin asks, wiping his hand on a paper towel to get rid of the excess oil. 

Arthur nods, his face flushed. Merlin leans over him, relishing in the barely audible shocked gasp when he “accidentally” brushes Arthur’s nipple with the side of his palm, reaching for the shaving cream.

“Only Gwaine would come up with such crazy punishment for losing,” Merlin mutters, spreading the cream all around Arthur’s groin. It’s obvious Arthur shaves regularly, the hair can’t be more than a week old. At least Merlin doesn’t have to deal with trimming it first. 

“Yeah,” comes Arthur’s reply, slightly breathy. He’s on his way to full erection, so it’s not a big surprise. 

“I see you’re making this easier for me,” Merlin says and smirks at Arthur who averts his eyes for the first time that evening. “We can stop,” Merlin says softly. It’s not meant to be a rape. 

“It’s fine. Go on,” Arthur’s words are clipped and his whole body tense, but he meets Merlin’s gaze again and that’s all Merlin needs to take hold of Arthur’s cock and start the shave.

“I still don’t understand why you thought you’d be able to down a pint of beer quicker than Gwaine,” he asks after a few minutes of silence filled only with Arthur’s heavy breathing. He adjusts his grip on Arthur’s cock to better reach another area still covered in a layer of cream. 

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” Arthur swears, making Merlin pull the razor away from his skin, worried he cut him. “Maybe I didn’t expect to win.”

He’s flushed with arousal, his lips slightly open, but it’s his expression that does it, the clear want in his eyes. Merlin puts the blade aside and leans over Arthur who stares up at him with growing hunger in his eyes.

“Does it mean you’ll do me afterwards?” he whispers against Arthur’s lips, giggling when Arthur pulls him down for a kiss. 

He’ll take that as a yes.

* * *

**#9**

Arthur doesn’t like the MX androids: they lecture him too much about rules. Arthur used to play by the rules. Then he tried to reinforce them with the wrong people, and his half-sister disappeared.

*

They promise him the MRL-05 is different. An experiment in humanity, they say. 

He’ll be easy to dismiss with the slightest malfunction. Arthur prefers to work alone nowadays.

*

_Different_ is one way of putting it. Outrageous might be another. 

“Do you even know the penal code?” Arthur says, exasperated, when MRL-05 smiles politely as someone tries to sell him XF-7 tablets. He waggles his eyebrows and lets his gaze drop to Arthur’s crotch before answering, “I’m quite familiar with it.” 

“ _Oh my God_ ,” actually comes out of Arthur’s mouth. Then, “What are you, a modified sex robot?” 

“Pleasure android,” MRL-05 says, and has the gall to pout. Arthur was _joking_. “But they expanded my capabilities considerably.” 

Arthur promised to put up with him for a whole week. He adds it to a long list of life regrets.

*

In a week’s time, Merlin:  
\- fails to catch three different criminals during a chase;  
\- keeps trying to make small talk;  
\- follows Arthur around like a happy puppy off leash for the first time;  
\- turns out to be a perfect shot;  
\- wakes Arthur up at 6 am with a song (then catches the lamp Arthur throws at him);  
\- because he broke into Arthur’s flat and slept on his sofa instead of at the compound;  
\- somehow charms four different reluctant witnesses into helping (Arthur doesn’t ask);  
\- volunteers to help Arthur hack into the confidential information file of someone who may or may not have kidnapped Morgana;  
\- leans over in the middle of a car ride and licks Arthur’s neck.

There might be one or two other attempts at seduction. Or eight or nine. Arthur figures Merlin probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. A fault in his reprogramming. Arthur crushes the faint spike of lust (he doesn’t even remember the last time someone touched him, he’s only human, christ), and carries on with his job.

When Gwen asks him, at the end of the week, if there are any malfunctions, he sees what fear looks like on the face of an android. If this doesn’t work out, Merlin will be put in a stuffy hangar somewhere, defunct. 

Arthur takes a deep breath and resigns himself to having a partner. He wasn’t going to get out of it anyway.

*

Arthur takes to muttering a half-hearted “get out of my flat” every morning while Merlin puts together an inedible breakfast for him. He doesn’t comment when Merlin pretends to drink coffee like a real person.

He does, eventually, say _thank you_ when Merlin keeps digging up clues to Morgana’s whereabouts.

*

“Was that really necessary?” Merlin asks him. Again.

“They were a danger to traffic!” Arthur says, also again. “Besides, what if they hit a pothole? I was keeping that guy’s, uh, health in mind.”

Merlin snorts. Sometimes, he forgets he’s programmed to please, honestly. “All those long hours you spend driving. I could keep you entertained.” He’s grinning obnoxiously, but when he leans in close to murmur, “I’m really good, you know,” his warm breath tickles Arthur’s neck. That morning, he woke up to Merlin in his bed. Arthur doesn’t know why he didn’t throw the lamp. 

Merlin’s hand is very warm on his thigh. 

“Behaviour, Merlin.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Merlin says, earnest. “I don’t like sleeping alone. I like sleeping with you, though.”

“I’m not going to let go of you if you don’t do this.”

“I know,” Merlin says, and licks the side of his neck again. Arthur feels a rush of adrenaline as Merlin’s hand slips higher and he tries to focus on the road. Merlin looks so painfully hopeful.

Oh, honestly, fuck the rules (well, sometimes).

*

Arthur’s cock looks weirdly obscene, naked in their work car; he expects Merlin to pull him off, but Merlin gives him a cheeky smile and slides down. Arthur is not prepared for Merlin’s mouth, hot and wet and as perfect as he promised, or for the pleased sounds Merlin makes. He doesn’t hit a pothole, but nearly rear-ends a car when he comes. Merlin looks unbearably smug.

*

Arthur wakes up with Merlin wrapped around him. “Love you,” Merlin murmurs against his neck, the same way he says “Good morning”. 

_Programmed to please_ , Arthur reminds himself, but he kisses Merlin’s fingers just the same.

* * *

**#10**

Gwen quite likes being right, especially when Morgana is so utterly wrong. “He’s the most boring person in the universe, Gwen, I don’t think he’s done a single exciting thing in his life,” was Morgana’s assessment of Lancelot. Gwen had realised everyone at Morgana and Lancelot’s office thought the same, but she’d been sure that there’s way more to him than that. 

Even if she doesn’t even know him. She’s just been lusting from afar, because Lancelot’s gorgeous with amazing eyes and arms that makes her want to cuddle in bed forever. And fingers that she wants buried in her cunt. 

So it’s really pretty splendid to be right, she thinks, as she twists her fingers into his hair and tugs, her legs spreading wider. The stairs of the fire escape are cold against her thighs, digging into the flesh. Lancelot has her knickers pulled to the side and his head between her legs. 

Inside, Gwaine’s flat is full of people and the sounds of loud chatter and music are audible even though Lancelot had shut the door behind them. The sounds don’t quite drown out her moans, and she peers up at the open bedroom window of Gwaine’s upstairs neighbour. She bites her lip and forces herself to stay quiet. 

Lancelot’s tongue circles her clit, the sudden contact making her leg twitch. He reaches out and runs his hand along her leg, looking up at her with those stupidly gorgeous eyes. His mouth is hot and perfect on her, his tongue sending jolts of pleasure that buzz across her skin.

He mutters something against her and the vibration makes a moan slip out, her hand tightening in his hair. 

“I’m sure he fucks with the light off,” Morgana had said, and the memory of it makes Gwen grin. 

She moves her hips against him, just slightly, wondering if he’ll mind. Her eyes widen when he groans and she does it again, pushing up into his tongue. Her pulse runs fast and uncontrolled as his hands grip at her hips, a hungry moan vibrating against her clit. 

“Shit,” she says, her free hand gripping at the metal of the fire escape. 

A particularly loud round of laughter comes from Gwaine’s flat and for a moment she freezes, reminded of where they are. But then Lancelot fucks his tongue into her cunt and she moans, deep and long, throwing her head back. Her hair slides from her shoulder and she grinds up against his mouth. 

Her fingers twist harder in his hair when she comes, her thighs tightening around his head. She arches upwards, every muscle in her body relaxing at the release of tension. She sinks back, graceless and spent. 

He looks up at her then, wiping his mouth at the back of his wrist. It’s glistening and she thinks it might be the best thing she’s ever seen. Reaching up, she presses the back of her dress’ sleeve to the corner of his lips. He smiles at her, so genuine and pleased that her heart flips. 

She takes his hand and stands, puts her hand at the back of his head and kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue. She grins against his lips when he pushes her back against the door, his body heavy and warm on her. 

“Morgana might be looking,” she says. “Meet me in the bathroom in 10?”

He nods and she turns to open the door, only to find it stuck. They stare at each other, eyes wide. 

“Maybe we can climb down through his bedroom window,” Lancelot says, and seems to measure the distance. “Or I could call. I don’t want you to break your neck.”

She looks over at the window that goes to Gwaine’s window, only a small step from the fire escape. “We’ll climb.” 

But since the door’s stuck, they might as well make the best of it. 

She sinks to her knees and presses her mouth to the hard outline of his dick.

* * *

**#11**

“We almost died tonight,” Merlin says, voice low and seething in the chill quiet of the vacant courtyard.

Arthur is breathless and giddy, still letting out little hiccoughs of laughter, alive with the high of a near brush with death. He claps Merlin on the shoulder, and Merlin is stiff under his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Arthur says, reaching for Merlin’s wrist, trying to keep him from storming off to Gaius’s chambers in a dramatic huff. Merlin stops walking and glances over his shoulder at Arthur, and the moment is still enough that Arthur can feel Merlin’s heart beating through the soft, thin skin at his wrist. But whatever Merlin sees on Arthur’s face seems to set him off again. He wrenches his arm away and stomps off towards the castle. Arthur jogs to catch up, a sharp pain in his knee reminding him of the blow he’d taken at the hands of one of Cenred’s men.

“Listen, I didn’t ask you to come,” Arthur says. “In fact, you just sort of showed up, and I’m not really even sure how you knew where I was, but I was perfectly—”

Merlin is considerably stronger than he looks. Arthur’s back cracks into the stone banister lining the steps up to the castle, Merlin’s hands squeezing at his shoulders just outside his neck, as though it’s taking all his effort not to strangle him.

“We almost died!” Merlin shouts, and the force of his words makes Arthur feel like he’s just been caught with his hand in his breeches, ashamed and a little bit scared.

“Merlin, it was—”

“You’re not getting it,” Merlin says, and one hand curls behind Arthur’s neck, fingers digging into his hair, wrenching his head back so Arthur has to squint down to see Merlin. It hurts to breathe like this, his throat pulled too tight, but he doesn’t push Merlin away. He’s too curious about this, too fascinated by what Merlin will do, what he could possibly hope to accomplish.

“What am I not getting?” Arthur grits out. “Come on; tell me. You’re risking charges of treason for this little outburst, so get on with it.”

Merlin shakes his head from side to side and leans in, his whole body draped over Arthur’s, his face so close to Arthur’s that Arthur can feel the warmth of Merlin’s shallow breathing.

“You almost died,” Merlin says, and it sounds like a gasp, a whispered confession that means more than it means. “If I hadn’t been there—”

“You were,” Arthur says, one hand finding Merlin’s elbow. The moment is quiet and tense and distinctly uncomfortable.

It’s Merlin who makes the first move, and Arthur wouldn’t have predicted that, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Merlin’s lips are warm and strong, and Arthur wets them with his tongue, slips inside. Merlin’s hand is down the front of Arthur’s trousers before he’s even hard, and that is so completely _like_ Merlin, to assert himself where he isn’t welcome, but _god_ , how Arthur welcomes him now, the delicious, satisfying weight of him.

The banister still juts into Arthur’s back, and Merlin’s fingers are still tight in his hair, and Merlin’s mouth leaves wet trails down Arthur’s throat that sting in the cold night air.

Merlin’s hips rock against Arthur’s thigh, slowly, deliberately, and Arthur realises that Merlin is in complete control, that this isn’t just some weird moment of anger-fuelled passion.

“Why—” Arthur starts asking, but he doesn’t know what the question is, really, only that he doesn’t understand why Merlin feels so good against him, despite the cold, despite the pain in his back, despite who he is, and who Merlin is, and how vulnerable they both are in this moment.

But Merlin doesn’t need the whole question. He just answers, simple and clear and earnest against Arthur’s chin, “You know why.”

And Arthur does know. And when Merlin brings him off, all of Arthur’s discomfort and doubt go quiet, and one truth asserts itself in him: he is happy to be alive.

* * *

**#12**

The Sunday sunrise was warm on his face and surprisingly easy on the eyes as Gwaine stirred, burrowing deeper into the pillows as he slowly came to. The sheets had far too high a thread count to be his but the situation was nothing new to him so no reason to kick up a fuss. He stretched again and groaned as his cock, hot and hard against his stomach, rose to greet the day with him.

“Head down, ass up sweetheart,” a woman’s sultry voice urged close to his ear. Fingers slid feather light down his spine in a long, coaxing caress. Teasing a long drawn out shiver from his still buzzed and sleep heavy body.

It took him about a minute to piece together the events from last night. The party at the Pendragon lake house, the banter, and then the fiercely competitive game of tequila chess he played against Arthur’s harpy sister. His frighteningly intelligent, gorgeous harpy sister with the hair trigger temper and utterly distracting cleavage. 

She wiped the floor with him and then fucked him sideways. Twice. 

Just the memory of it had him sliding a knee upwards in unspoken acquiescence because why the fuck not? He was still stretched and up for an encore performance.

The lube was soothingly slick and warm against the well fucked pucker of his ass as her slender fingers gently worked him open. His cock twitched in approval at her deft touch and he fought the urge to just start hunching into the bedding until it was filthy with his satisfaction. Then her fingers found and worked his hot spot in soft, insistent circles and he was up as asked. Face buried deep in rose scented pillows, knees braced, and spread to support the arch of his back.

“ _Hmmm_ there we go. Just perfect,” Morgana murmured contentedly and firmly grasped his hips to slowly pull him back and onto the soft head of one of her toys. Once he was finally seated on that last greedy inch, toy snug against his prostate, there was a tell-tale click and then the thick insistent length of her toy came thrumming to life. 

“Fuck!”

Drowsiness fled as he shivered, flexed, and fought to hold perfectly still. Already almost desperate to come as the pressure built in relentlessly waves that beat against the flimsy strength of his morning self control. Waves that built faster and harder until his chest heaved with each gasping breath, prick leaking against the pale peach of the bedspread. 

Morgana’s hands slid, still gentle, over his skin and into his hair to grip and pull. Urged him further onto her lap to writhe against the soft weight of her body. “Touch yourself,” she demanded and he scrambled to obey, her breath hot against his ear. Her other hand moved to cup his throat and Morgana held him like that, body straining not to fall back against the steady roll of her hips while his cock spit and dribbled between the desperate pumping of his fists.

Distantly Gwaine felt as she began to shiver behind him, gasping as whatever silicone wonder she was using worked them both up, up, and over the edge. Until they were both left kitten weak and in Morgana's case, snarling. Her mouth latched to the meat of his shoulder to muffle a short scream of release.

They fell over together, sideways and panting. 

“Well God damn and good morning to you too beautiful,” Gwaine choked out. Eyes dark and dilated as she ripped the toys’ straps off her hips and thighs, squirming to fuck herself open with another nearby toy to limp satiation. 

“Lovely way to start the day,” he added with a wink and besotted slur.

* * *

**#13**

Arthur's uncertain at first. Something about the kid's eyes, the slightly manic smile, is worrisome. But he's on holiday. He's got top-shelf rum in his veins, fine white sand between his toes, and an itch that desperately wants scratching.

He – Merlin – speaks a version of English, handy as Arthur's after something more than a back alley fuck, plus he's pretty. Pretty and tall and staring with the kind of raw hunger most men try to cover up for pride's sake, even at a meat market like this.

Arthur takes him back to the hotel, studies him under the lobby lights and in the glass-walled lift that shoots them up, higher than the foothills and the fort across the bay. He's still pretty, but not as young as Arthur thought. 

There is definitely something queer about his eyes.

They take off their shirts, take a bottle out on the balcony to catch the breeze and watch the last of the day's colours fade and bruise into night. Merlin's got wiry limbs, thick dark hair and the sweetest pink nipples Arthur has ever seen. His fingers are long, his nails tidy, his faded blue shorts like a second skin. 

He's got everything that Arthur needs, so he doesn’t know why he's hesitating, watching Merlin's mouth and listening to his blather instead of stripping off and grabbing the railing, legs spread. 

It's full dark now, a fat copper moon hanging out over the bay. Arthur fancies the idea of the warm breeze on his balls, watching that moon sail up and down as Merlin takes him hard from behind. Normally he'd be blunt about it, have no problem saying, "Shut up, get your kit off and get over here."

Instead, Merlin's sprawled on the lounger, rambling about life and dignity and happiness, looking at Arthur like he's hung that damn moon himself; instead, all Arthur can do is nurse the rum, staring, thinking, _Cock. You have a marvellous cock. Why aren’t I showing you where to put it?_

He wonders if he's made a mistake with this one. He wonders if the lounger would take their combined weight, if Merlin would mind if Arthur just reached over and slid his cock out of his shorts, stiffened it up and spit on it, then climbed aboard. It's almost unbearable to be this close and not be touching. 

He _could_ let his hand linger when passing the bottle, but with Arthur it's all or nothing. He only lets himself have it when it's down to skin on skin, nothing left to hide. He doesn't even like kissing them until he's got a fat cockhead nudging in through that first ring. He likes soothing the burn of it by suckling at their mouths, swallowing down whatever noises they make. 

Merlin's going to swear when he first feels how tight Arthur is, how well he moves, that the muscles aren't just for show. Arthur can tell.

Except… 

_Shit._ Merlin's ranting now, all worked up about time and bloody _destiny_ , gesticulating with the empty bottle. His eyes are wide and bright. It's drugs, has to be, on top of all the booze, and he may be near-perfect but Arthur's not into that kind of hook-up. 

He wants to be seen, remembered.

"Hey," he says roughly, pushing up from his chair, spell broken, need turning sour in his gut. "Come on. That's enough. I think you've had your fun, my friend."

He lets Merlin shout, lets him ugly cry and pound a fist against his chest. Then he pries the bottle from lax fingers, coaxes him back inside. He tells him to stay and sleep it off, cursing himself for a fool.

He means on the sofa, of course, but there's something about the way Merlin clings, whispering, "Arthur, please…" as if there's a whole sentence in there, a whole heartbroken story, and reaches for his face.

"Just…let me hold you."

Arthur blinks. Then he decides to break all his rules and kisses Merlin anyway. 

_He's uncertain at first. Something about the boy's eyes, the slightly manic smile, is worrisome. But Arthur's the prince. He's got royal blood in his veins, a whole glorious life ahead of him, and an itch that desperately wants scratching._

* * *

**#14**

“Why did you do this, again?”

“It seemed like a really good idea at the time?”

Elena was sitting on the long row of bathroom sinks at her work, legs open wide and floral skirt pushed up to her hips. Her knees twitched with the need to close in around the pretty, petite frame of her coworker, Mithian, who was inspecting Elena's bare breasts with thin, gentle fingers. Elena could feel how close their bodies were, how one little shift could bring them flush together, and it was _severely_ distracting. She could just imagine Mith's curious fingers dipping underneath her bunched up skirt, flittering over her plush thighs, gently cupping her warm cotton panties, and rubbing over Elena's swollen clit - soft and careful but so fast, desperate, and needing - until she came right there, practically in public, for anyone to see. 

“Seriously, Elena. We'll have to go slow.”

Mith dragged one thin finger over the edge of the bandaid, and Elena barely held back a small gasp.

This was, as things often were, all Elena's fault. She was the queen of bad ideas and this one had been the worst that year so far. Her bras had all been torn apart by her new puppy (not-so-fondly named Briller, much to the confusion of her friends), so when she realized her braless nipples would stick out proudly at work that morning, she had improvised and put bandaids over them instead. The result was that Elena was extremely uncomfortable the entire day and too much of a baby to take them off herself. 

Mithian, the gorgeous saint that she was, had agreed to pull them off for her.

Elena didn't regret asking her at all.

“Okay,” Elena breathed. She gripped the faux-marble countertop and bit her lip. “Do it.”

Mithian hooked one perfectly manicured nail under the edge of the bandaid on Elena's left breast. The smooth, hard nail easily folded up the edge of the adhesive and slowly started to pull it down, sending prickling shocks throughout Elena's sensitive nipple - shocks that went straight down her body and caused her thighs to tighten around Mithian's slim hips. 

She cried out as the bandage was pulled slowly – so slowly – over her soft, reddened skin, and she dipped her head so that her forehead just barely grazed over Mith's. She could hear Mithian's own shallow, careful breaths and feel the cool of her collected, professional skin as the bandage was pulled over and across. It made Elena braver.

The bandaid came off with a crinkling snap. Mithian pressed against Elena's bowed head comfortingly.

“All done with that one,” she said softly.

Elena huffed a breathless laugh. “Kiss it and make it better?” 

She meant it as a joke, she really did, but Mithian still pressed her perfect small lips against the flushed red of Elena's nipple, taking just the peak in her mouth and flicking over it with her hot, wet tongue before letting it go.

Elena's mouth dropped open and her eyes slid shut. Mithian slid one hand up her thigh, just like she imagined, so soft and so careful, to pull her hips closer to the edge. 

The air was cold against where Mithian's tongue had just been.

“And now the other,” Mithian said. A smooth, hard nail outlined Elena's right breast. There was a smirk on the edge of Mithian's lips.

This was the best idea Elena ever had.

* * *

**#15**

'Oh my god, you feel amazing,' groans Percival, big soft Labrador-puppy eyes all blown black and adorable, unbelievably sweet, as he pushes in. Merlin spreads his knees wider and braces against the skeevy wall and Percival just keeps making these little helpless noises into Merlin's skin, the nape of his neck, as he bottoms out, and it cranks Merlin's engine like crazy, turning a big strong guy like this into a sweaty, incoherent mess already. They've barely got started, to Merlin's way of thinking, and already he's split incredibly wide, working himself on this beautiful, amazing dick, so big he could barely get his mouth all the way down when he tried just a moment ago, and this guy, this cute-as-hell man-mountain, is making him feel wanton and predatory. 

Merlin shoves back, trying to get Percival to really give it to him, and the bathroom stall door starts creaking. Merlin does. Not. Care. Hell, the entire building could cave in and he wouldn't care. He has bigger (way bigger) things on his mind right now. 'Fuck, yes, just like that,' he groans, arching up. Percival bites him softly and he pounds against the wall with his fist. 'Unnnh, Jesus, fucking yes, get in, c'mon, _c'mon_ -'

'Shut up, please shut up,' Percival groans. 'I can't - I'll -' He's shaking and the sinews in his arms, bracketing Merlin, are taut and ropy. 'Jesus, fuck, please -'

Merlin forces himself to slow down instead of fucking back harder and harder. 'S'okay,' he pants, and now he's not moving he can feel Percival shivering behind him, like this is all too much for him. 'Hey, I've got an idea,' he says, because a reaction this fucking beautiful he wants to _see_. He pulls free and Percival whimpers, until Merlin turns and kind of shoves him back to sit on the closed lid of the toilet - typical glamorous bathroom hook-up - and climbs back on like he's mounting a bloody stud stallion. 

'Ohmygod,' says Percival in a rush, grabbing for the edge of the condom to make sure it's still in place, like a gentleman, and Merlin can't help kissing him, to find out if he's that sweet all the way down the line. He lifts his hips a little and sinks, rocking down onto that ginormous fucking cock, and Percival makes those tiny, turned-on noises into his mouth like he doesn't even know what he's doing, and Merlin all of a sudden has a question he didn't think to ask before, when he was admiring the half-ton of muscle leaning on the bar. 

'This isn't your first time, is it?' he demands, tilting Percival's chin up to look him in the eye, and nearly bites through his lip from sheer, blood-rushing lust when the other man pulls away and won't meet his eye and _blushes_ like a bloody schoolgirl. 'Holy fuck,' Merlin breathes, and his hips are moving of their own accord now, riding Percival for all he's worth, the new angle putting constant, perfect pressure on Merlin's insides. 'Holy _fuck_.'

'Not _first_ -first time,' Percival manages, spreading his huge hands around Merlin's hips and thrusting up like he can't help himself. 'I mean, girls ...'

'But not men,' Merlin finishes for him. 'I'm your first.' It's ridiculous how much that turns him on.

'Am I doing okay?' Percival asks, rocking Merlin into him, using that strength now, and oh yes, he's doing okay. More than okay.

But he looks unsure. And we can't have that. 'God, yes,' Merlin breathes, draping his arms over Percival's bull-like shoulders. 'Yes, fuck. You're a natural. I could do this all night, I really could -' but he can feel himself starting to peak and he'd bet Percival's nearly there too, sweating and fucking like a champ now, just right, just perfect, hitting all the right spots and Merlin tells him so, 'god, yes, c'mon, harder, harder, _harder_ -' and Percival's eyes almost roll up in his head and at the feel of him jerking and coming inside the condom Merlin lets go too, half triumph and half fire and 100% utterly satisfied with his Saturday night, and already half-composing the come-addled text he's gonna send Arthur.

(When he does, with a pic, the response is almost instantaneous.

_holy fuck. room 4 a 3rd???)_

* * *

**#16**

_Arthur thrust into him, biting at Merlin’s shoulder, sweat slicking their skin as they rocked together. Merlin moaned pressing back against him and Arthur laughed against his ear, pressing a kiss to his throat._

_“Gods, I’ve wanted this for so long.” Merlin breathed turning to kiss him._

_Arthur reached down to palm Merlin’s cock, stroking it and smiling against his lips “So have I.” He swore thrusting into him again._

~~~

“What happened?” Morgana demanded looking worried.

Arthur ignored her, setting his bag down on the bed in her guest room. His lips were pulled tight and he felt sick.

“You’ve lived together for almost five years Arthur.” She followed him into the front room, Arthur ignored the sad looks Gwen was giving him as he reached for a beer in the fridge. “You’re Arthur and Merlin, you’re best friends!” 

“I know.” He twisted the cap off and took a pull, closing his eyes for a moment.

He had fucked up.

~~~

Arthur run a wet cloth against Merlin’s skin, cleaning up the mess they had made and Merlin trailed a hand across his arm, smiling softly. Arthur balled up the rag and threw it across the room, kissing away the wrinkle in Merlin’s nose as he landed in a heap on the floor.

“You’re going to clean that up,” Merlin muttered before kissing Arthur back. Arthur cradled him in his arms and Merlin’s hands tightened around his waist “I’m serious, you’re not going to make my room look like the disaster that yours is.”

“My room isn’t a disaster.” Arthur argued back moving his lips to Merlin’s neck and pulling the blanket up around them. “It’s a little out of sorts.” He conceded.

Merlin laughed snuggling closer and they settled down together to sleep.

~~~

“What happened?” Gwen asked him softly, sitting beside him on the couch. Morgana had left to get some food and Arthur had known it was coming. Morgana was family, she pushed and she demanded and Arthur rarely gave in on the sheer principle of it being Morgana.

Gwen had been a friend of his even longer than Merlin has, she has been the one to introduce them.

“We had sex.” Arthur admitted, setting the beer down on the table and staring at the horrible painting on the wall, no doubt something Morgana has picked out. He couldn’t look Gwen in the eyes.

“That should be a good thing shouldn’t it,” she sounded confused and he turned to see the furrow in her brows “you’ve loved each other for years, everyone could see it.” She said with a smile.

Arthur didn’t think he could feel lower but at that he did “Well someone should have told me that.”

~~~

Arthur found his pants half buried under the bed and pulled them on, grabbing his shirt from where it was under Merlin’s ridiculous scarf on the floor. Merlin shifted on the bed, turning to face him and Arthur passed, dread filling him as he watched him settle back down into sleep.

Why had he done that? They’d been friends for years, they were roommates. Arthur couldn’t screw that up.

He watched Merlin for a second longer before pulled on his shirt and stumbling out of his room, he needed to get a bag and get out of there.

~~~

Morgana didn’t come back to the flat alone. She walked past Arthur, pizza balanced in one hand and Merlin walked in behind her. Gwen stood and followed Morgana to their room, leaving Arthur and Merlin alone.

Arthur didn’t even bother to glare at their door as they closed it, too busy starting at Merlin’s tousled hair and tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly “I freaked out.”

“That’s obvious,” Merlin looked awkward standing there and Arthur hated that. He shouldn’t have left, he wanted this.

So he made a decision, hating the uncertainty in Merlin’s eyes he pulled him into a kiss, whispering against his lips “I won’t leave again.”

* * *

**#17**

“Yes, Gwen, I promise to be careful. No, I won’t drive home,” Merlin rolled his eyes, but felt warmth in his chest at her concern.

“Goodnight, Mum!” He teased after a few more minutes of her fretting. Shaking his head fondly, Merlin entered the bar he’d been standing outside of. 

Merlin ordered a drink and turned to view the dance floor behind him. There was a sea of bodies writhing against each other, more and more fitting in as they arrived.

Merlin locked eyes on a man whose face was turned away, but whose sensual movements and sculpted muscles were hard to ignore. Merlin rose to his feet, abandoning his drink, and approached the mob, letting the beat fill his head and thrum through his chest. As he approached Merlin admired the shirtless guy’s rippling muscles and dark hair, sparing a moment to thank the universe that ‘no shoes, no shirt, no service’ didn’t apply here. Merlin was hoping to provide a little ‘service’ later, himself.

Pushing through the last few people, he slid a hand up the guy’s muscled back to rest on his shoulder, lightly tugging to turn him around. To Merlin’s great disappointment, an equally attractive blond man was plastered against the man’s chest. The dark headed man had his hands wrapped around the blonde’s hips so there wasn’t an inch between them. As Merlin prepared an apology, already beginning to take a step backward, the blonde’s hand shot out, firmly grasping Merlin’s waist.

Both men sized Merlin up before sharing a look. Merlin felt slightly uncomfortable, and had no idea what the couple were thinking. The men made space between themselves and tugged Merlin in. The blonde ground his hips against Merlin’s front, the brunette pressing hard against his ass. Merlin inhaled sharply in surprise, then let his breath out in a low moan. The blonde leaned his head back against Merlin’s shoulder, saying, “I’m Arthur, that’s Gwaine. We’re interested in a third.” His hot breath fanned against Merlin’s ear, eliciting a full-body shiver.

Merlin didn’t even have to think about it. “Okay,” he said, voice breathy from arousal. Arthur’s hips fit so perfectly against him, Merlin could feel himself getting harder by the second. He pressed back into Gwaine, and raised a hand to rest on the other’s neck. They moved together, and Merlin couldn’t hear anything but the beat urging him on, and the blood pounding in his ears. 

The flashing lights and perfumed air overwhelmed him until he closed his eyes and blocked out everything but the movements against his body. Merlin felt a warm mouth along his throat and groaned, moving sensually with the hips pressed against his, concentrating on where he could feel Gwaine’s arousal pressed against him. Gwaine sucked and bit at the skin along his neck, Merlin leaning into him. 

They were pulled apart by Arthur, who had grabbed each of their wrists and was pulling them toward the bathroom. There was a guy at the sinks, but they didn’t meet his eyes as they hurried past, almost tripping over each other into the biggest stall. 

Hands were immediately at his belt, Merlin didn’t know whose. His button and fly were quickly taken care of, and before he could blink there was a mouth on his cock, the wet heat enveloped Merlin, leaving him gasping. He looked down at blue eyes and blond hair as Arthur took him to the root with one practiced movement. Gwaine claimed his lips, licking in and kissing Merlin sloppy and wet, raising a hand to roll Merlin’s nipples under his shirt. Merlin moved his hips in little jerking motions, and when Arthur started humming he came embarrassingly quickly. 

Merlin pulled Arthur up, and shoved him against the wall next to Gwaine, who already had his pants undone. Merlin jerked Arthur’s pants open, and he closed his hands around them. He pumped up and down, caressing underneath the heads, moving his hands along their shafts to find the most sensitive places. Merlin flicked his thumb up to tease Gwaine’s slit, causing the bigger man to lean on Arthur for support. 

“Kiss,” Merlin ordered, Arthur and Gwaine complying immediately. Merlin picked up his pace, twisting his hand on every upward stroke, Arthur coming first, then dragging Merlin to his knees so they could taste Gwaine together.  
* * *  
Merlin: Had a great night ;) on the way home so stop worrying! I met these guys…  
Gwen: And?!?!  
Merlin: And then i had a penis in each hand. It was magical.

* * *

**#18**

** As The Sun Sets **

Merlin hummed as he placed Arthur’s armor to the side, starting to ready himself for bed.

It had been a long day. Firstly he’d had to force himself from the warm comfort of his bed, and then it was off to the kitchens to fetch Arthur’s breakfast. The man was a boar, as he usually was in the morning, but the prince had gotten better as he was readied for training. 

Gods, training. Merlin had been dragged into it yet again. He didn’t mind the occasional fetching of swords or targets, but being used for sparring? He should have known Percival’s sweet demeanor hid a strong sword arm. Though, really, Merlin was more distracted by the other man’s physique rather than his potential strength.

But Percival wasn’t Arthur. He wasn’t a dollophead that thought Merlin was a lazy sod but actually trusted him behind closed doors. He wasn’t a prat who would push him into the mud only to pick him up and dust him off with a smile. And he wasn’t the prince who would lay down his life for his men or his kingdom.

Merlin sighed, slipping out of his clothes and into his long nightshirt. It was much too hot to wear his usual sleep pants, and the thin cotton felt good against his skin. He washed up quickly in his small basin, wetting his face and drying himself of any sweat that had gathered throughout the day. Merlin was just about to slide into bed when he heard a knock at his chamber door.

That was strange. Gaius would be in the lower town until the next morning and Merlin couldn’t think of anyone who would come knocking at this hour, especially at his little door instead of the main one that led first into Gaius’ own chambers. His brow furrowed as he straightened up again, padding over to the door and pulling it open with a look of almost hesitant curiosity.

Merlin had half expected Gwaine to be standing there with a jug of ale, wanting a drinking partner. He hadn’t expected Prince Arthur. But there he was, hair ruffled and dressed roughly in the same shirt he’d been wearing that day and his sleep pants. Almost like he’d settled into bed before shooting out of it straight after.

“Arthur?” Merlin said, unable to hide his surprise. “What are you doing down here? Are you even wearing boots?”

“Merlin.” Arthur said quickly, interrupting him as he dragged a hand through blonde hair. Ah, that explains the ruffling. “I just wanted you to know that I…I respect you, and…Look, can I come in?” He asked, looking harried. 

Merlin raised an eyebrow in confusion but nodded, opening his door wider and stepping aside. Arthur looked grateful as he shut the door behind him, but at the same time he had a strange twitchiness about him.

“Arthur, I was just going to bed, couldn’t this wait until –“

Merlin had been interrupted again, but this time it was not by Arthur’s words. It was by his lips. 

The kiss was over as quickly as it had started, Arthur having stepped back with a strange look on his face, his hand coming up to touch lightly at his lips. “I’m sorry.” The prince murmured, as if the kiss had stolen his breath. “I had to know.”

“Know what?” Merlin whispered, still half in shock of what had just occurred.

“If this is what made me think disrespectful thoughts about someone I respect.”

“You said you respected me.” Merlin said, flashing back to Arthur’s first words at the door.

“Yes.”

“So, you’ve been thinking about…me?”

Arthur’s cheeks flushed pink. “It would seem so.”

Merlin only nodded, face blank as he gestured towards the bed. Arthur sank down onto it with an apprehensive expression; unable to judge what Merlin was thinking. Luckily for him, Merlin had already decided what was going to happen. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Merlin straddled Arthur’s lap, fiddling with the ties of his trousers as he pushed his nightshirt up, exposing both of their cocks to the warm summer’s air. Arthur hardly had time to gasp before Merlin’s slender fingers encased them, stroking them together.

“I’ve been waiting for you, you know.” Merlin found himself saying, voice thick with lust and unbridled affection.

“Good to know.” Arthur gritted out, groaning as he was coaxed to full hardness. “How about we make up for lost time then?”

The night had only just begun.

* * *

**#19**

Merlin blinked when he saw a message from Gwaine pop up on his Skype, signalling a video call. Merlin frowned but accepted it, grateful he'd muted the laptop at the start of the class.

He looked around the room. All his students were bent over their papers, no sign that they were disturbed by Merlin tapping on his keyboard without really looking at Gwaine on the screen.

_I'm in a class! Everything ok?_

Merlin glanced down and saw Gwaine talking to him.

_Got the sound off. Class is taking a test_

Gwaine read the message then nodded. He reached and started to type. 

_bored, thought I'd say hello. how long they got left?_

_About 30 mins, why?_

_bored. Horny._

_Gwaine_

Merlin watched with a mix of curiosity and growing horror. Gwaine bored could either be fun and hilarious or a mess of bad ideas. Merlin had a feeling this was leaning towards the latter. 

Gwaine started by unbuttoning one cuff, then the other. 

_Gwaine. Seriously._

Gwaine rolled his eyes and leant forward.

_shut up and enjoy the show. the kids will never know. youll just have to keep quiet._

Goddamn him, Merlin thought. Gwaine must've seen Merlin's thoughts on his face, because he grinned triumphently. 

_I hate you_

_you can punish me later_

Merlin shifted and looked up at his students, who were still working diligently. When he looked back Gwaine had undone the other cuff and was starting on the buttons of his shirt. 

Merlin rested his chin on his hand, one hand on the keyboard, as if he were reading something. Not watching a striptease. God, he hoped the light from the screen meant that no one could see his blush. 

Gwaine was topless now and Merlin swallowed. Gwaine was gorgeous in a way Merlin hadn't really experienced before. Gwen called it schluballybub – that weird feeling when you see someone you love. It was ridiculous.

_do you mind? I'm doing my best here and youre drifting_

_Sorry, sorry_ Merlin typed _Please, carry on_.

Gwaine raised an eyebrow and slipped his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall behind him. Gwaine unbuckled his jeans, slowly pulling down the zip. Merlin could almost hear the low noise of the zip opening and he swallowed again, feeling himself heat up all over. 

Gwaine slipping his hands under the denim and eases his trousers down, lifting them over the bulge of his erection. Merlin let out a breath and shifted. He looked up at his class once more and then slowly put a hand under the table to rearrange his growing erection. It jerked at his touch and it took all his strength to move his hand away but he had to – he drew the line, the very shake, faint line – at masturbation. 

Gwaine had no reason to hold back. He cupped himself and Merlin wished he could hear Gwaine's gasps. 

_get naked first_

Gwaine blinked at the screen a few times then nodded. He stepped out of his jeans and then took off his boxers. 

_fuck you're hot_

Merlin could see Gwaine huff a laugh as he sat down and then wrapped a hand around his cock. 

Merlin bit back a noise as Gwaine thumbed the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum there. Merlin was hard now, pressing against his trousers uncomfortably. He looked up at his students, and the clock – still 15 minutes left – and took a deep breath in and out. 

_you're killing me. come for me_

Gwaine's mouth fell open – maybe on a gasp, maybe a moan, Merlin couldn't tell. His hand sped up, and Merlin tensed up, leaning forward to be closer. 

Gwaine's body spasmed as he came in his hand, head falling forward. Merlin almost cracked his teeth not making a sound at all. 

Gwaine panted a few times then looked up at Mrelin, smiling at the camera, breathless. 

_best way to spend an exam?_ Gwaine typed after wiping his hand. 

_definitely_ Merlin replied. He looked up at the clock. 

“Five minutes left,” he announced to the class, voice only cracking a little bit.

_can't decide if I owe you or you owe me_

_please, I saved you from boredom, you totally owe me_

_you got to come. I'm going to be hard til I get home_

_I'll make it up to you_

* * *

**#20**

Gwaine's mouth was on his and Merlin couldn't help but moan a little as Gwaine crashed them into the nearest wall and ground their hard cocks together. "Get a room!" someone yelled. 

Merlin gave the person the "fuck off gesture" behind Gwaine's back and didn't bother to break away from the kiss long enough to see who had shouted. Gwaine reached for his belt to start to undo Merlin's pants before Merlin realized that they were still in a room filled with people and they should probably take the suggestion. He pushed on Gwaine's shoulders until Gwaine stepped away and grabbed his hand to lead him to Merlin's room.

Once they reached Merlin's room Merlin let go of Gwaine's hand and started to undress. Merlin fumbled as he tried to remove his shirt and nearly tripped over his pants as he kicked them off, the alcohol in his system making his movements clumsy. Gwaine was no better and made for an amusing image when he managed to get stuck in his shirt. Merlin laughed as he walked over to Gwaine and helped extract him from his shirt. 

"Maybe we're to drunk for this," Merlin said. 

"Your dick is certainly up for it," Gwaine replied as he pointed at Merlin's hard cock. 

"You're one to talk," Merlin said. He pointed at Gwaine's cock that was already leaking precome.

"What can I say? You kiss like you're starving for it. It's hot as fuck," Gwaine replied. 

"Get the lube and condoms, Gwaine," Merlin said. He chose to ignore Gwaine's words in favor of laying down on the bed. Merlin spread his legs in order to tempt Gwaine to hurry up.

It worked, the next thing Merlin knew Gwaine was on the bed kneeling between his legs and slicking his fingers in the lube.

"Are you sure?" Gwaine questioned as he stroked a finger against Merlin's hole without breaching it. 

"You're acting like this is out first time. Do it, you asshole," Merlin complained. He pushed his hips down against Gwaine's finger and moaned in encouragement when Gwaine crooked it just right. 

"You're so fucking hot," Gwaine said. He leaned down to kiss Merlin's already swollen and red lips. 

"Shut up and add another finger," Merlin said as he pulled away from the kiss. Gwaine smirked as he did what Merlin asked. 

"Fuck me already, I'm good. I'm loose, from the alcohol," Merlin said after a minute. Gwaine took Merlin at his word and fumbled with the condom for longer than Merlin would have liked. "Hurry up, damn it," Merlin cursed. 

Gwaine was finally inside him and he fucked Merlin in lazy strokes, pushing in slowly and withdrawing just as slowly. It was maddening. 

"Jesus. What are you trying to do?" Merlin questioned. "Faster, Gwaine," He begged. 

"We're going at my pace for now, enjoy it, Merlin," Gwaine teased. He continued thrusting into Merlin at the same pace as before. Merlin sighed in frustration before Gwaine changed the angle slightly and brushed against his prostate in the next thrust. 

"Yeah, right there, Gwaine." Merlin said as he tried to encourage Gwaine to move faster by pushing his hips up against Gwaine. Gwaine responded by mouthing the side of Merlin's neck and hitting his prostate a few more times.

 

He reached down to stroke his own cock, desperate to come. If Gwaine wasn't going to fuck him the way he wanted, Merlin could at least jerk himself off. Merlin got in a few good strokes and was on the verge of coming before Gwaine suddenly and Merlin was pinned by Gwaine's full weight. 

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked in confusion but he got no response. Gwaine was still hard inside him and Merlin tried to shove him off with his one free hand.

"I can't believe you fell asleep," he said as he continued trying to nudge Gwaine off his body, but Gwaine's dead weight wasn't budging. 

"Gwaine, wake up, damn it," Merlin shouted. Again, there was no reaction. 

Suddenly, Gwaine woke up on his own and started fucking into Merlin again as if nothing had happened. 

"I can't believe you," Merlin muttered. 

"I'm just that good," Gwaine replied. 

"You just fell asleep, Gwaine." Merlin replied. 

"Nah. No one would fall asleep while fucking your sweet ass, Merlin," Gwaine replied. 

"Whatever, just don't do it again or we're not having sex for a week. I was about to come," Merlin said, exasperated. His words were followed by a moan as Gwaine finally increased his pace.

* * *

**#21**

Gwen works the night shift, seven to seven, and she likes it -- the hospital is quiet, all beeping monitors and slow movement after the 8pm medication rush. She likes going home in the morning, too, likes being able to watch the sunrise as the birds begin to sing and the commuters stumble into coffee shops.

Sometimes, instead of going home on her days off, she goes to Morgana’s. Morgana’s never there; she leaves too early for her own job. “To beat the rush,” she always says, and Gwen dutifully doesn’t say anything about sibling rivalries and pointless contests of wills.

She uses Morgana’s shower, spends long minutes soaping the smell of antiseptic off her skin in long strokes. She pulls Morgana’s clothes on, after, slipping into an old purple camisole soft from wear and a pair of Morgana’s panties before curling up in Morgana’s bed and pulling the sheets around her. It isn’t like having Morgana curled around her, but she sleeps more soundly anyway.

She sleeps straight through the day, straight through Morgana’s texts, not waking until Morgana crawls into bed with her, late that evening. She smells like perfume, and when Gwen rolls over to greet her, she tastes like scotch. She kisses Gwen hard, presses close until Gwen is gasping and opening to her, letting Morgana slide her tongue into her mouth, her knee between her thighs.

“Missed you,” Morgana says, quiet, lips brushing along Gwen’s skin.

“Saw you two days ago,” Gwen says fondly, pushing Morgana’s hair out of her face. Morgana rolls her eyes and bends to push her tongue against Gwen’s nipple through the thin fabric of the camisole, fingers slipping down, down over Gwen’s belly to run along the scalloped edge of the panties. 

“Much too long,” she murmurs, muffled against Gwen’s breast. Gwen’s distracted from replying when Morgana’s hand flattens out between the rise of her hips. Gwen’s spreads her legs eagerly, anticipating; she can’t help the hitch in her breath when Morgana finally thumbs lightly over her clit, her hand pressed close by the silky stretch of the panties.

“You,” Gwen gasps; “you don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not when the payoff is this sweet,” Morgana says, grinning, and bites at the soft undercurve of Gwen’s breast as she slides two fingers along Gwen’s folds, the noise of them in the slick unmistakable. Gwen hisses a breath through her teeth and bends her knees up, and Morgana pushes the shirt up her stomach, sucking a biting trail down the soft rolls while she works Gwen with her fingers, teasing until Gwen is sweating and rolling her hips into the touch, begging for more.

“Can’t believe you,” Morgana says, her own voice wobbly. “Come home, find you here in my bed, in my _clothes_...” Gwen groans, and Morgana pulls her fingers _out_ , smearing them over Gwen’s skin. Gwen makes an outraged noise, and then Morgana is pulling the panties aside, though she doesn’t strip them off. She has her tongue on Gwen -- she has her tongue _in_ Gwen, and Gwen falls apart with Morgana’s face buried between her thighs, Morgana’s tongue deep and clever, everything slick and hot with the borrowed panties cutting into her hips. She barely needs Morgana’s fingers: Morgana pulls back and licks her, long confident strokes straight up to her clit, and Gwen’s finished, whimpering high choked groans as Morgana brings her through it.

She means to help Morgana, but Morgana’s got the fingers of her free hand deep in her own cunt and Gwen knows the way she’s gasping against Gwen’s thigh means she doesn’t need any help. She’s there already, just from taking Gwen so masterfully apart. 

“Thanks,” Gwen says, drowsily, when they’ve come down and cleaned the worst of it off themselves with the corners of the sheets. “‘s just what I needed.”

Morgana kisses her, sweet, letting Gwen taste herself. “Darling,” she says, “that was only round one.”

* * *

**#22**

Arthur blinks against the sunlight piercing his eyelids, trying to make sense of his surroundings through the brain-splitting headache. He's in Morgana's flat, he realises, lying on the floor in front of the couch, rug chafing against his cheek. Groaning, he turns around, which makes him register another ache, coming from his backside or - more precisely - from his butthole. Reaching down gingerly, Arthur discovers he's not only completely starkers, but there's also a distinct wetness between his cheeks.

Staring ahead uncomprehendingly, Arthur catches sight of a bright red dildo lying among crumbled condom wrappers, lube and what looks like a can of spray cream. His heart is beating in his throat as his brain starts connecting the dots. 

Upon hearing a moan, he rolls over and comes face to... arse with someone. The arse in question is sporting a tattoo of a sword rammed into a bleeding heart with Arthur's name written across, and Arthur suddenly has a flash of– 

_drawing his tongue sensually over those inky lines, biting into supple flesh..._

But that can't be. He's straight. He even has a girlfriend to prove it. Well, ex-girlfriend, technically. 

He still can't keep his eyes from travelling up that stretch of a pale back, leading to a graceful neck and a ruffled mop of dark hair and Arthur's–

_pulling that hair, bright blue eyes blinking up at him while glistening red lips wrap around his cock._

Arthur chokes, trying to shake off the images when he feels himself growing hard, and then the mysterious man turns around with a grunt and Arthur stares into familiar blue eyes. His name is Merlin, Arthur remembers. One of his sister's weird activist friends, who grudgingly picked Arthur up from the airport yesterday because Morgana couldn't make it.

''What happened?'' Merlin croaks, squinting at Arthur and then around the room. 

Arthur grimaces. ''I'm... not sure. But it looks like we engaged in...uh...'' He helplessly waves towards the condom wrappers.

Merlin frowns. ''You mean we fucked?''

Arthur glares at him. ''Well, it sure _feels_ like I have been.'' 

Merlin's eyes are round as saucers. ''Didn't you say you have a girlfriend?''

''Ex. Technically.''

''Then why-?''

''How would I know!?'' Arthur explodes, jumping up and grabbing a cushion to cover his crotch.

Merlin only raises an eyebrow at him. ''Okay.'' He holds up his hands placatingly. ''Lets recapitulate what we know.''

''Well, you picked me up...''

''...and you were a right prat about it just because I was a little late.''

''An _hour_ late!''

Merlin ignores him. ''Then there was a bar...''

''…and tequila shots,'' Arthur offers.

''Because you insisted that a 'nancy boy' like me couldn't possibly drink you under the table.''

Arthur scoffs. Actually he had just needed an excuse to drown his misery. Scowling, Arthur grabs a flimsy thong hanging from a lampshade and throws it at Merlin. ''There. Might as well get dressed.''

''That's not mine.''

Arthur sucks in a sharp breath, suddenly remembering–

_the booming music vibrating through the floor under his bare feet and up his body. Feeling high with it as he forcefully thrusts his hips in a matching rhythm, holding on to the sleek pole in front of him and grabbing the skimpy Union Jack covering his crotch as the crowd beneath him goes wild.._. 

He remembers Merlin snapping pictures. Remembers–

_Merlin's slender body on all fours in front of him, naked apart from Arthur's tie slung around his neck, Arthur holding it like a leash while Merlin nuzzles his dick._

''Look at your phone,'' he croaks and, with a frown, Merlin complies.

''What the ever-loving fuck!'' Merlin screams. ''You made me eat a hot dog!?''

''What?''

''It's like I personally murdered Babe!'' Merlin wails, accusingly waving his phone at Arthur. There's a picture of them, both grinning, arms slung around each other, biting into a hot dog from opposite ends.

''You have my name tattooed on your arse and freak out over a sausage?'' 

''I have _what_!?'' Merlin strains his neck to look before shooting him an outraged look. 

Arthur doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, choosing to flee to the bathroom instead. After a minute, he stumbles back out. 

''If it helps...'' he offers in way of an apology. ''There are three very alive rabbits in the bathtub.'' 

Merlin, now wearing a black PETA t-shirt, looks at him sheepishly. ''Well, I guess they go with the Shetland pony in the elevator.''

* * *

**#23**

The king looked despairingly at the stripling kneeling before him. The boy had arranged his body into the posture of a penitent, but the sparkle in his eyes showed that he was as incorrigible as ever. 

“Merlin, what am I going to do with you? Haven’t we talked about how inappropriate it is for you to be catting around with stableboys and knights alike? When do you even have time to _sleep_? No, don’t answer that, I know you doze off on my bed mid- morning when you are supposed to be doing your chores!” 

The king did not mention that he knew about Merlin’s illicit naps because he could catch the scent of roses and frankincense on the pillows at night. And he knew damn well that Merlin was helping himself to one of Morgana’s bottles of perfume every morning. 

He didn’t say anything about it because Merlin’s scent on the pillows invariably led Arthur to a satisfying wank. 

Merlin had come to Camelot when he was fourteen, and by the time he was fifteen his sexual exploits were the stuff of legends. He was seventeen now, and the thirty-five year old king was finding it harder every day to remember why his manservant was off limits. 

“Hey!” Merlin objected. “I’ve grown up a lot. I don’t give blowjobs as birthday presents anymore!” 

“Not to hear Gwaine tell it,” Arthur answered drily. “And you do not address your king as “Hey!” you address me as Sire.” 

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin said meekly, dark eyelashes sweeping down toward his exquisite cheekbones. “I’m sorry I was rude. Is there some way I can make it up to you?” 

The king made his voice stern. “I hope you are not going to insult both of us yet again by suggesting that you confer some of your indiscriminate sexual favors on me?” 

Merlin’s pink tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth, and he said sulkily, “I don’t see what harm there would be in you taking me up on my offer. Who knows, you might like it.” 

The sovereign shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The truth was, Merlin made him hard every time he saw him, and he had been fighting his attraction to the boy the whole time Merlin had been in Camelot. Maybe it would be good for Merlin to have one person to guide and control his seemingly insatiable sexual urges? A person of years and experience, who would know how to channel the youth’s wildness? 

He didn’t want the lad to catch some loathsome disease, after all. And it always made him jealous to hear Gwaine boasting about what a sweet mouth Merlin had. 

Well, Gwaine and Percival and Geraint and Bedivere and Elyan and Lamorak and Gareth and Kay and Hoel…. 

At least Lance and Leon had the courtesy and good sense not to talk about Merlin’s mouth, although he was fairly sure they also were among its admirers. 

Arthur was nearing the edge of his self-control, when Merlin decided the question for him by reaching back and undoing the knot of his neckerchief as he shuffled forward on his knees. 

Knee-walking was another skill Merlin had perfected during his years in Camelot. 

The next thing the king knew, his belt was loosened and his trousers and smallclothes were pulled down and his prick was deep inside the prettiest mouth in the kingdom. 

Merlin sucked Arthur’s cock with enthusiasm and skill. Arthur rarely got to see him without the neckerchief, and the sight of Merlin’s collarbones and the silky feel of Merlin’s hair under his hands had him close to coming in an embarrassingly short time. 

Arthur pulled out at the last minute, unable to resist the temptation to paint the boy’s face with his spending, and the streaks of white made a very pretty picture indeed striping across Merlin’s angelic face. 

Merlin licked his lips before reaching for his discarded neckerchief to wipe his face. Then he reached down between his legs and hurriedly brought himself off, gazing into the king’s eyes the whole time. 

Merlin nonchalantly cleaned himself off with the neckerchief and clambered into Arthur’s lap, and the king kissed the top of his head and whispered fiercely, “No more blow jobs for anyone but me.” 

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin answered sleepily. “And if it isn’t too much trouble, I would like to have my own bottle of perfume. Please.” 

_Excellent. Merlin’s manners were improving already._

* * *

**#24**

_Morgana and Morgause tickle war_ , Merlin texted Gwaine. _Send help_

Merlin’s phone buzzed. _95% of tickle wars end in sex. Ur lucky_

Merlin tossed the mobile aside and looked over at Arthur, who clearly agreed with Gwaine. “You’re seriously turned on by that?” Merlin asked, gesturing with his beer bottle to where Morgause had Morgana pinned and shrieking with laughter.

Arthur didn’t blink. “Huh?” 

“They’re _sisters_!” 

“Mmm.” 

“One of them’s _your_ sister!” 

No response, so Merlin looked over again. _Oh God, was that baby oil?_

“You’re gay!” Morgause paused from pouring some kind of oil down Morgana’s bikini top to tell them to shut the fuck up. Arthur just glared at Merlin and grabbed the beer bottle, draining it. Now Merlin had no more beer, with the added torture of watching Arthur fellate a beer bottle.

Arthur noticed his torment. “You’re seriously turned on by that?” he mocked.

Merlin growled, lunging and flattening Arthur to the cottage’s floor. Merlin was going to make Morgause’s tickle assault on Morgana look like friendly horseplay.

Arthur didn’t fight as Merlin lifted the jersey Arthur wore and found his ribs, his neck, his armpits with his long fingers. Finally, Merlin stopped, half-sprawled over Arthur’s apparently un-ticklish belly whilst Arthur pretended to check his watch.

“What the hell was that?” Arthur asked.

“Erm…horseplay?” Merlin stammered. Across the room, Morgana and Morgause were showing their support by pretending to stick their fingers down their throats.

“Here.” Morgana tossed the oil before the pair squelched their way down the hall. It fell next to Arthur’s thigh, conspicuous, and Merlin felt a flush spreading over his face. The distraction allowed Arthur to flip Merlin over and press him face-down into the carpet.

“No, Merlin,” Arthur said as he pinned both of Merlin’s wrists above his head with one of his. “ _This_ is horseplay.” With his other hand, he uncapped the oil and poured a long stream into the hollow of Merlin’s lower back where his shirt had ridden up. 

Apparently horseplay had different meanings. Merlin shivered. 

“Oh, sorry, are you ticklish here?" Arthur murmured and Merlin shook his head emphatically. “I don’t think I believe you.” Arthur dragged his fingers through the oil and teased them lightly over Merlin’s sides until Merlin was gasping with laughter.

“Right. Definitely ticklish there. What about here?” Arthur continued, reaching under Merlin to press fingers to his belly. 

Merlin again denied it, and again was reduced to a squirming, giggling mess.

“Here?” Arthur asked, bringing his fingers up to Merlin’s neck. Merlin stilled as Arthur let go of his wrists and rested his hand warm against the back of Merlin’s neck. When Merlin tried moving away, Arthur pressed down enough so Merlin could feel the nap of the carpet pressing into his cheek.

“No, no. Stay there,” Arthur ordered. “And unbuckle your belt for me. My hands are too slippery.” 

Merlin gulped and complied. It was awkward, face pressed into the carpet and oil dripping everywhere. When he finished, he brought his hands back up over his head.

“Oh, good boy,” Arthur crooned, and then slid slippery fingers beneath Merlin’s oil-stained waistband and into the crease of his arse. “Now, tell me. Are you ticklish here?” he whispered, and lightly skimmed his fingers over Merlin’s puckered hole. 

Merlin groaned and pressed up into Arthur’s fingers.

“You _are_ ticklish there? Brilliant.” Merlin couldn’t see Arthur’s face, but he could imagine his grin of triumph as Arthur slid two sure fingers into Merlin and began fucking them into him, hard and relentless until two fingers became three and there was the squelch of more oil and three became _oh God was that four?_

“Four?” Arthur leaned down and whispered in Merlin’s ear, and the feel of Arthur’s stubble made Merlin mewl just as Arthur doubled his rhythm against Merlin’s prostate. “That's right, sweetheart. Just lie there and take it. You're so good.”

Arthur’s fingers kept fanning out and curling in over and over and over, while Merlin struggled against Arthur’s grip, howling and begging until finally, he pleaded hoarsely for Arthur’s whole hand.

Arthur’s eyes darkened. “We need better than oil for that. Another time, yeah?” He punctuated his vow with a soft kiss to Merlin’s cheekbone. “How ‘bout I give you my cock instead? I’ll shove it in good and hard for you.”

Later, as Merlin squirmed in his chair through dinner, his phone buzzed again. 

_So what happened with the lesbian incest tickle fight?_ Gwaine.

_Sex_ , Merlin texted back.

* * *


	6. Group B (clean)

**#25**

It was that sad time of the night, when most of the life had already drained out of the bars. Morgana sighed; she just wanted to get laid.

It was all Arthur’s fault. He swore by that dating site, saying it always got him laid. So, she had signed up and in a matter of hours had a date set with a guy who seemed like her type. But here she was, hours after he stood her up, killing a bottle of wine by herself. 

“Last call!” the bartender announced. 

She didn’t need another drink, but she was disappointed that she had to leave. She had hoped she could pick up someone else and prevent the night from being a complete failure. 

Morgana watched as the bartender started closing tabs, flirting with everyone who came to the bar, her lips curved into a sultry smile, her smoky eyes fluttering as she tossed back her blonde hair. 

“Hey, I gotta close up,” the bartender said a while later. “Want me to call a cab?”

Morgana looked around and realized that she was the only one left. Shaking her head she got unsteadily to her feet. 

The bartender bit her lip. 

“Look, I live around the corner. Let’s get you coffee? I’m Morgause,” she said, guiding them outside. “It’s Morgana, right? Saw your tab.”

Morgana nodded. “Thanks. You didn’t have to,” she sighed. “The night was a disaster.”

As they walked, Morgana told her about the failed date.

“Pathetic, right?” Morgana concluded as Morgause ushered them inside.

“No. We all have needs. But I don’t understand,” Morgause pressed on, “why you are limiting what can fulfill those needs.” At Morgana’s confused expression she added, “I don’t see any guys here, but I do see us.”

Morgana’s mouth fell open. “Oh!”

“I couldn’t believe you were still there when we closed. If I wasn’t working…” Morgause trailed off. “You are so beautiful.”

Morgana felt her face flush as Morgause stepped closer, pinning her against the counter.

“You can say no. “ A whisper against Morgana’s mouth.

“Yes,” Morgana said, bringing their mouths together. 

The kiss was hot and soft and everything that Morgana had been craving. She moaned as the kiss became deeper and hotter, quickly moving from soft to something else completely. 

Morgause kissed and bit down Morgana’s neck to her shoulders, pushing open the wrap dress she was wearing before continuing down to her bra. She pushed the material aside and sucked one of Morgana’s nipples into her mouth. Morgana gasped and threaded her fingers tightly into the other woman’s hair and she could feel Morgause grin against her chest.

Morgause slipped back up Morgana’s body, grabbing her thighs and lifting her up onto the counter as she straightened. 

“You are so fucking hot,” Morgause whispered, pushing away the rest of the dress, so that Morgana’s lacy bra and panties were on display. 

“I was hoping to get lucky,” Morgana explained.

“Oh, you will.” She promised, licking down Morgana’s body. She breathed hot against the front of Morgana’s panties, kissing lightly through the fabric. 

“Please,” Morgana moaned, wrapping her legs around Morgause. 

Morgause pushed the panties aside, sliding her tongue down Morgana’s cunt. Morgana moaned, gripping Morgause’s hair as the other woman sucked hard on her clit. Longing for more contact, she pushed her hips forward. Morgause slipped a finger inside her, matching the rhythm of her tongue. 

Morgana pinched her own nipples as her breath became shallower. She swore it had never been this good. 

As Morgause slipped a second finger inside of her, Morgana’s body shuddered. She could feel herself squeezing around the fingers. She pressed her clit harder against Morgause’s mouth, tilted her head back and let out a scream that would give the neighbours no doubt as to what was going on. 

Morgause eased her fingers out, placing one last kiss on Morgana’s sensitive clit before rising and capturing Morgana’s mouth. Morgana sighed into the kiss, tasting herself on Morgause. 

“That was amazing,” she breathed before slumping forward to rest her head on Morgause’s shoulder, exhausted.

“I know,” Morgause grinned. “Let’s go to bed. In the morning, you can show me how amazing you are.”

* * *

**#26**

_"Mer_ lin,” Arthur mutters fondly. He noses against the long, pale stretch of Merlin’s neck, runs his hands down Merlin’s chest. “Such a ridiculous name. It fits you, you know, you ridiculous idiot- just look at those ears of yours.” 

Arthur kisses and bites his way up Merlin’s throat, his jaw, coming to a stop at Merlin’s right ear. He takes it between his teeth and tugs gently, loving the way Merlin’s struggling to control his ragged breathing, already so affected by Arthur’s attentions yet trying not to show it. 

“God, and your mouth,” Arthur murmurs. He takes Merlin’s face in his hands and strokes his thumb across his lower lip, his cock stirring when Merlin’s tongue darts out and swipes a wet trail across the pad of his finger. 

“It should be illegal,” he continues, his voice now hoarse. “I kept staring at it when you were chatting up that prick at the bar, telling him about the fucking kitten you rescued from a tree, of all things. Couldn’t look away from it, from you- couldn’t believe my luck when he realized you weren’t going to be the dirty little quickie he thought you’d be and left you sitting there all alone.” 

Before he’d even made the decision to approach Merlin and try to cheer him up, he’d imagined what Merlin’s lips could do- how they would beg Arthur to touch him, to give him what he needed. The sounds they would make when Arthur finally did, teasing Merlin to the edge, making it last as long as he could. 

“Are you going to talk my ear off all night, or are you going to _do something_?” Merlin huffs breathlessly, snapping Arthur out of his reverie. 

“Don’t you worry. I’m going to do- shite!” Something lands on Arthur’s back, sending tiny pinpricks of pain flaring up across his skin. 

“Arthur. Whatever you do, don’t move,” Merlin orders. The urgency in his voice and eyes sends a thrill of fear through Arthur, and he freezes immediately, though he keeps his body tense and ready to jump into action. 

“Merlin,” he says, softly. The pinpricks move across his back and settle on the center of it, then disappear completely, replaced by a furry weight. “What is it?” 

“Er, remember that kitten that I was telling the prick about?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t actually bring myself to get rid of him,” Merlin confesses sheepishly.

“You- oh.” Arthur blinks. “Hell, Merlin, don’t scare me like that. I thought it was something else!” 

“What else could it be?” 

“I don’t know, just- would you like to get him off of me so we can resume things?” 

“Of course not!” Merlin cries, and fuck if he isn’t staring at Arthur as if he suggested they go steal from little old ladies. “He’s falling asleep, we can’t move him now.” 

Arthur can’t find it in himself to argue with that, so he lowers himself onto the bed as slowly as he can without disturbing the kitten. The beaming smile Merlin gives him afterwards twists something in his chest, and he knows he’s well on his way to being fucked- both figuratively and literally.

* * *

**#27**

The blonde bloke was there again.

Not that Merlin really noticed, or taken any special attention or anything.

It was the second night this week that his obnoxious neighbors had thrown a party, and Blonde bloke was sitting on Merlin’s picnic table again, his head bent over his phone screen, elbows resting on his knees. If it had been anyone with less glistening hair or an ass that didn’t look quite as good in fitted jeans, Merlin would have been pissed.

Blonde Bloke looked up just as Merlin stepped off the porch with a cigarette in hand, and Merlin's face lit up from the brief flame of his lighter.

“Sorry for coming over here into your yard. I didn’t realize anyone was home,” Blonde Bloke said, though his ass didn’t show sign of moving.

Merlin breathed out smoke. “Bullshit. You just didn’t care if you were trespassing or not.”

Blonde Bloke stared for a minute, not quite surprised, just intensely curious and scrutinizing.

“I needed a breather for a minute. Problem with that?”

“I’d have less of a problem if your ass wasn’t where I eat.”

“Yeah? Gonna call the cops on my ass or what?

Merlin didn’t know what gripped him, but the dark heat he could just make out shining in Blonde Bloke’s intense gaze spurned him on.

“Nah, I can just think of better uses for your ass.”

Merlin blew smoke into the air to hide the hints of his own self-doubt, and missed the Blonde Bloke’s brief wide eyes.

“Alright, talk big, but are you gonna back it up?” 

“Before I back anything up, tell me your name. That way I can stop calling you ‘Blonde Bloke’ in my mind.” The other guy threw his head back to laugh. Merlin stepped closer despite himself, when he saw the perfect jaw line and bared curve of throat.

“Arthur.”

“Merlin.”

The next thing Merlin knew, he was standing between Arthur’s spread knees. The first thing Arthur did was reach for Merlin’s hand still holding his cigarette, guide it to a spot on the tabletop, and press the cigarette out.

“Well aren’t you a giant prat. That spot’s probably never going away.”

With a quick grip on Merlin’s thighs, Arthur stood, spun them around, and pressed Merlin backwards onto the table, slotting himself in between Merlin’s legs.

“Good,” Arthur breathed behind Merlin’s ear. “So you’ll always remember this.” 

Arthur produced a condom from a pocket, causing Merlin’s hash breathing to stutter into a laugh.

“God, you’re fucking terrible.”

Arthur just grinned. “We going half or all the way?”

“Don’t insult me.” One of Merlin’s hands was already undoing his own pants.

Arthur made a sharp sound through his teeth, his hands already chasing bare skin.

In the dark, where the porch light only illuminated the edges of Arthur’s face, everything happened fast, catching Merlin up in a gasping blur. He saw Arthur’s wet fingers slide from his mouth, then he was rocking against them as they crooked and scissored inside him. His knees tightened against Arthur’s hips, then Arthur fumbled with the condom in the dim light, ungraceful for only the briefest moment before he was pressed along Merlin again. 

He slid past any resistance. Merlin kept his arms locked around Arthur’s neck, focusing on gritting himself to the pain, because he had never experienced anything more shamefully, flawlessly filthy.

Arthur was gripping the table behind Merlin for purchase, and Merlin kept his arms and legs tight around Arthur as Arthur pumped into him. His thighs ached from holding them so far open, but Merlin couldn’t focus on anything but the heat driving into him.

“Better make this worth the splinters I’ll have in my ass,” Merlin managed to gasp, making Arthur grip his hips instead, pulling him in for each drive, harder and intimate, until Merlin came sooner than he’d had any intention to. 

In the overwhelming aftershocks, just as Arthur came and then stilled, a voice called from the other side of the hedges that separated Merlin’s lawn from the neighbors.

“Arthur! Arthur, I know you’re over there somewhere.”

It was a girl’s voice. In response Arthur just pressed them both deeper into the shadows and placed his lips over Merlin’s to whisper, “Shhh.” Merlin was still tingling from head to foot, with the feel of Arthur starting to go soft inside him.

The girl finally went away, and Arthur pulled back only slightly.

“That your girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Problem with that?”

Merlin was surprised only for a second.

“What do you think?” he asked, rolling his hips where Arthur was still inside him. “We better take this inside before she comes back.”

* * *

**#28**

Among the highest knights, Leon is the only nobleman. It doesn’t bother him, truly. All of the other low-born have no need to make an effort at genteel behavior. Percival takes ladies' hands with the utmost care; Elyan recites poetry with the skill of a bard, and Lancelot discusses land disputes with air of a scholar and the patience of a saint.

But Gwaine. _Gwaine_ gets drunk at feasts. _Gwaine_ tells bawdy jokes within hearing of the queen. _Gwaine_ fights like he learned it grappling with drunks in someone’s barn.

And the worst part is? He _wins fights like that._

And Gwaine knows exactly how much it offends Leon, the cur. Leon tells him off for the seventeenth time for making a mockery of the art of combat, and Gwaine just grins like a loon.

“My friend, you take fighting too seriously.”

He clearly needs to be taught a lesson. Leon lunges forward in a classic thrust, and Gwaine fucking _spins on his heel_ , slaps Leon upside the head, and somehow ends up seven paces away with Leon’s sword in his hand.

*

Leon is sputtering with anger by the time he catches up with Gwaine in the armory. “Dishonorable, and barbaric, and positively—”

“Ignoble?” There’s a brittle quality to Gwaine’s laugh. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I am but a common man, and we commoners go around brawling and drinking and putting cocks in our mouths like the Romans.”

Leon scowls. “Oh for God’s—”

“What do you think, my lord? What’s the best way to overcome my vulgar ways? Prayer and abstinence? Or no. I’m too weak for that. Probably just need to get it out of my system.” Gwaine’s voice has gone low, not-quite joking, as he stalks forward.

“Probably. You’ve no self control to speak of.” Leon feels a jolt of uncertainty, though. Gwaine’s face is unreadable.

“Perhaps I should start now, then?”

Leon’s too shocked to react when Gwaine goes down on his knees and un-does Leon’s laces.

“What—,” but he cuts himself off when Gwaine raises a daring eyebrow. This is a game of chicken, and Leon has lost out too many times this week to turn back now. Besides, it’s not as if Gwaine is actually going to put his mouth on Leon’s—

“Sweet holy virgin,” Leon curses.

They just stand there, Gwaine with a mouthful of Leon’s flaccid cock, and Leon’s frozen, staring at the crossbows hanging on the wall behind Gwaine’s head. He’s suddenly trying to remember the last time he had a piss, and whether he’d shook the drops off well enough, because now all of that is _in Gwaine’s mouth_. His sudden revulsion makes him shudder, and his cock moves and slides against the hot inside of Gwaine’s cheek, and oh god. His entire body clenches up still, except, mortifyingly, for his cock, which seems to have independently elected to humiliate him by slowly expanding in Gwaine’s mouth. He’s getting hard.

Gwaine’s laughing, the bastard, but he keeps his mouth near the base of Leon’s cock, nosing about in the curly little hairs there like a goddamn dog, and Leon’s cock is actually starting to poke at the back of Gwaine’s throat.

Gwaine chokes, a little, and Leon has never felt so unclean and so inflamed in his whole life. His mind goes blank and stupid in the next moment, because Gwaine starts licking and sucking, and he’s caught between noticing a broken crossbow trigger and digging his fingers into Gwaine’s skull.

Gwaine’s snuffles and slurps and chokes greedily on Leon’s cock, and disgust coils in Leon’s stomach at the sounds—and yet. His disgust just fuels the burn between his legs. Leon’s hips jerk, and before he’s quite registered it, he is fucking Gwaine’s mouth. Maybe this is what it feels like to be an animal.

What would the knights think, if they walked in the armory just now? Lord, what would the _Arthur_ think? If he came in and saw his First Knight eagerly poking his prick down a man’s throat, bouncing like a dog in rut. Perversely, the thought makes his bullocks tighten.

“Gwaine,” he says, and pulls at Gwaine’s hair, because this is already the most obscene thing Leon’s ever done, and he is absolutely not going to—

Gwaine groans, guttural, and clenches his hands on Leon’s arse and holds on with all his strength, and Leon curls over him, cursing and coming down Gwaine’s peasant throat.

* * *

**#29**

Arthur hastily poured himself a cup of coffee, to go as usual, put on his jacket, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his laptop case, and as a last minute addition, picked up his umbrella as he rushed out the door. A balancing act of truly professional quality. It was days like these – gloomy, rainy, and always too early in the morning – that he envied Merlin’s life as an author. Of course, they had bonded over words and poetics but Arthur was more inclined to teach than to write. 

What nobody mentions when talking about middle schools is that sometimes, particularly on gloomy, rainy mornings, the clock seems to tick by as slowly for teachers as it does for students. Arthur already ate half his lunch before 3rd period, and was looking forward to the class ending so that he could finish. As the bell rang, students filtered in and took their seats, some looking around nervously or shuffling through flashcards in anticipation for the test. Arthur cleared his throat, causing most of the students to look up. 

“Today, as you know, is your exam on Fahrenheit 451; there are 20 multiple choice and an essay. Read the questions carefully so you know what they’re asking, and please do try to use correct grammar,” he announced as he picked up the stack of tests and began handing them out to students. Normally when students were taking a test, Arthur would busy himself by grading homework or preparing lessons. However, today he was just too restless and instead turned to his laptop. As it started up, he saw that Merlin was active on Skype. He carefully turned his laptop sound on mute, and clicked to the chatbox.

 

Sexyteacher: You’re up early today. It’s only 11.  
Angstyauthor: sure I am. today’s egg day, and gwen’s farm always runs out before noon  
Sexyteacher: I hope you know that you can just buy eggs from the store.  
Angstyauthor: i’ll pretend you didn’t just say that

The black box indicating an incoming call popped up on his screen, and next thing he knew, he saw…a chest? Merlin’s chest? With his favorite plaid shirt being unbuttoned right as he sat there, revealing a blue T-shirt underneath. A moment of confusion passed over Arthur and the blue T-shirt was being lifted, all the way up and off Merlin’s now very bare chest. Arthur’s eyes grew wide as he realized Merlin’s intention. 

Sexyteacher: Merlin! What are you doing?  
Angstyauthor: are you busy? you don’t seem busy  
Sexyteacher: I’m teaching a class!  
Angstyauthor: i don’t see you teaching…let me teach you something ;)

Arthur just barely managed to stifle a groan as the camera shifted lower and Merlin started undoing his jeans. Underneath he could see a prominent tenting in Merlin’s boxers. Tenting that was moving, as Merlin started to slowly pull those down too. Arthur could feel his face getting hot, and right as he thought it was time to end the call, Merlin’s hands stopped with his boxers still (barely) on. The camera shifted again and Arthur could see Merlin moving away from his computer until most of his body came into view, at which point Merlin started wiggling his hips in ways that were by no means appropriate for Arthur to be witnessing in a school environment. Still, by now Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Merlin’s lithe form, teasing him into madness as he sat here in front of a room full of students. Eventually Merlin’s boxers too came off, and Arthur was forced to endure another 15 minutes of watching Merlin…perform.

He was completely enraptured when the bell rang and the period was suddenly over, startling Arthur and prompting him to almost knock over his coffee. He shut his laptop quickly, promising to himself that he would call Merlin to explain later. He waved goodbye and gave a strained smile to his students as they came up to hand in their tests and left to their next class. Luckily, his break started in about 2 minutes, and the only thought on his mind was getting to the teacher’s bathroom as quickly and discreetly as possible to finish what Merlin had started.

* * *

**#30**

“ _Oh my god._ ” Merlin’s voice is muffled where his face’s pushed against Arthur’s marble countertop, arms cradling his head. 

Arthur hums, takes a sip of his coffee. Merlin raises his head, eyes wide, hair stuck up everywhere. His lips are red and wet and still so bruised from the way Arthur bit at them, stroked them with his tongue, stretched them wide with his cock. The memory of their slow glide up and down his dick matches the delicious ache in his arse.

“Promise this will never happen again,” Merlin says, high and urgent, sticking out his pinky finger in the space between them.

“What are you, five?” 

“Never. Again.”

Arthur hooks his pinky finger to Merlin’s, then takes another sip of coffee. 

***

He eats Merlin out in the hallway, jeans down just low enough so Arthur can spread his cheeks, get him wet with the flat of his tongue, open with the tip. 

All shivery and begging, Merlin comes with his hand cupped around the head of his dick.

“Okay, fine,” Merlin says. “Promise now.” He sticks his arm behind him, pinky out and sticky with come.

***

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur says with a twist of his wrist, two fingers snug in Merlin’s hole. “Hurry.” He leans into Merlin more, flattens him against the wall of the loo, mouth wet and open on Merlin’s jaw, behind his ear. 

Merlin makes these little punched out noises with each pump of Arthur’s fingers, bites on his lips, bites on Arthur’s forearm where’s he’s holding Merlin’s hand against the wall.

“Our parents are waiting, Merlin,” Arthur says, teasing, then curls his fingers inside, prods at Merlin until Merlin jolts, trembles and moans when Arthur finds the right spot. The glide of his fingers is so tight, just shy of too dry and Merlin’s knees buckle with it, only staying up because of Arthur’s body.

“God, fuck you. Don’t talk--shit--don’t talk about my mom with your fingers up my arse.”

“Then hurry.” Arthur buries his face in Merlin’s neck, warm and sweaty. It smells like sex. It makes Arthur want to rub off on Merlin, hard and dry, makes him want to fingerbang him until his wrist hurts. “Hurry, hurry, _hurry_.”

***

Too drunk after the rehearsal dinner, Arthur falls asleep half buried inside Merlin, curled around him. He must go soft and hard again, because he wakes with Merlin pushing insistently against him, fucking himself on Arthur’s cock.

“Shit, Merlin.”

Merlin only gives a small whine, high pitched and almost pained. Their parents are sleeping in the next room and hotel walls are thin, so Arthur stifles Merlin’s noises with his hand. Merlin gnaws and licks Arthur’s palm like he can’t keep his mouth close, like he needs something to fill it up, so Arthur pushes two fingers against his tongue, lets him suck.

He fucks Merlin like that, deep, with slow sharp rolls of his hips.

***

“Again?” Arthur goes crossed-eye as he tries to look at Merlin’s pinky two inches from his face.

“ _Yes_ ,” Merlin says, a manic look on his face. Arthur just shrugs and hooks his finger with Merlin’s. “You’re not taking this seriously.” 

Arthur thinks it’s hard to take a bloke seriously when he’s wearing a wrinkled t-shirt, nothing else from the waist down, and come all over his inner thighs. Arthur says so.

“Ugh. I hate you.” Merlin sits on the edge of the bed. “You, and your face, and your arse, and your cock. I really hate your cock.”

“Your arse disagrees,” Arthur says.

Merlin glares at him, then lets out a small laugh and lies on his back. Arthur gets on his knees, takes Merlin’s soft dick in his mouth until it isn’t anymore.

***

The sounds from the wedding reception are faint under them, the room only filled with the sucking wet noises of Arthur fucking Merlin’s face, the harsh breaths he takes through his nose.

Arthur grins down at Merlin and Merlin’s eyes crinkle at the corner in response. “Never thought I’d be so happy to have a brother,” Arthur says just to fuck with him.

Merlin narrows his eyes, sucks harshly on Arthur’s cockhead and fucks Arthur’s slit with the tip of his tongue. Arthur whimpers, comes over Merlin’s lips and cheeks, hips pushing off the wall and fingers buried in Merlin’s hair. Merlin rolls his eyes, right hand already down his trousers, moaning against Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur laughs wetly and pats Merlin’s cheek with a shaky hand. “Welcome to the family, Merlin.”

* * *

**#31**

Merlin squinted down at himself.

This was... This was new.

Huh. He pulled delicately at the sticky edge and nope. That was a definite no then with the hair around his nipple stinging sharply from the tug.

What had even happened last night, he groaned to himself through the muzziness in his head. Everything felt like it was coming through a thick, syrupy fog and he had a vague recollection of going to the big fundraising barbecue for the local police force and...

He moaned and hit his head against the wall. Hard.

 _Arthur_.

\---

It was early enough in the evening that he could still hear the children running around screaming with laughter from about _five feet away_.

He spared a moment to question his life choices.

"Oh, come on, Merlin," Gwen had said. "It'll be fun," she'd said. And he had blindly followed her to the fundraiser like a happy little puppy because he had been promised heaps and heaps of hot men in uniform. Except for Lance, her newest infatuation, he was off limits and the whole reason they had come to scope out the police force.

That and something about civic duty, of course. They were active and concerned citizens, coming out to support their community.

And unapologetically stare at those gorgeous asses in their crisp, well-fitted trousers.

Somewhere along the way though everything had gone wrong. And that was how Merlin found himself tugging fruitlessly at one of those starched uniforms in the middle of a frickin children's ball pit, now that it had closed after sunset. Not that the children had gone far.

 _Arthur_ had insisted that it was the best they could do for privacy in the middle of the park and they had slunk in like giggling, handsy teenagers when everyone had seemed distracted.

He was officially a terrible person. And he needed Arthur's dick now, before he exploded and turned the whole field into a flaming supernova, destroying everyone in his path.

He was doing it for the children's future, really.

And of course Arthur was a complete dick about everything, because Merlin just _had_ to be attracted to the shiniest, blondest asshole of them all. If he called him "boy wizard" one more time... But damn did he look good when he shimmied his hips to pull his pants down.

"Someday, you're going to do a strip show for me, when I can actually see what's going on and we're not surrounded by neon colored _balls_. My own personal stripper cop, mmmm..."

"I swear to god, if you don't shut up, I'm going to tape your mouth closed with one of my stickers," he hissed. "There are people right outside!"

"Is that a threat?"

Before Merlin could process anything further, Arthur had knocked him deeper into the ball pit, manhandling him until they were completely surrounded by the balls, and, oh, that felt so strange and kind of lovely along his bare skin. 

And then there was a sticker on his mouth ("for good measure," Arthur grumbled) and one on his nipple (because Arthur liked "the look" of Merlin's body covered in his badge). Never mind that the stickers were supposed to be for children.

Although Merlin glared at him indignantly, he had to agree that this was a much better use for them.

It was even better when Arthur twisted him around, so that his back was to Arthur, his hands trapped there between them in one of Arthur's large palms.

And he had to admire the advanced thinking when the sticker allowed him to scream as much as he wanted when Arthur concentrated all his considerable sexual charms and powers on making Merlin come apart under his hands.

\---

2:36 p.m.: I have a junior police officer sticker stuck to my nipple. I'm afraid to pull it off. And seeing as "ARTHUR STRIPPER COP WITH THE BEST COCK" is my newest contact, I think this belongs to you. All damage is your responsibility.

3:00 p.m.: Fuck off, boy wizard, I'm too hungover for this. You know you liked it anyway.

3:02 p.m.: Asshole.

3:07 p.m.: Drinks tomorrow?

3:08 p.m.: I thought you'd never ask.

* * *

**#32**

Merlin walked into the kitchen. Arthur seemed to sense his presence and looked over his shoulder. It was like something out of a television commercial or a 90’s music video. Arthur was standing in front of the window, shirtless, the golden sunrays beaming down on him, making his blonde hair shine even brighter and the smile he gave Merlin was so beatific, Merlin wanted to cry.

Merlin had woken up in Arthur’s bed with a vague recollection of ice cream and boxful of condoms on the floor. Merlin didn’t want to just come out and ask if they’d had sex. He wanted to give Arthur a little more credit than that and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. The best way to deal with it was just to be tactful and ease into it.

“Did we shag last night or what?”

Arthur froze for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. He picked up the plate of eggs and walked towards Merlin.

Arthur put his hand on his hips. “Do you remember us having sex?”

Merlin shook his head. “No.”

“Then there you go. Trust me, Merlin. If I’d fucked you, you would remember every detail.”

Merlin had to swallow thickly and briefly rub the sweat and lust out of his eyes before he could respond. “Then why did I wake up-”

“Naked?” Arthur interrupted, before he smirked. “Because you’re even more daft drunk than you are normally.” He motioned for Merlin to sit down at the table.

Merlin sat down and had to move the plate of eggs away from him. 

“You called me last night after you went to that party with Gwaine.” Arthur explained. "I brought you here and let you sleep in my bed. Twenty minutes later, you came downstairs saying you were now ‘dressed to impress.’”

“And I was…?

“Naked as the day you were born?” Arthur nodded once. “Yes.” Arthur started to eat some of the eggs off Merlin’s plate. “I carried you back upstairs and put you to bed.”

Merlin put his chin over his hands. See, of course there was a more rational explanation. He picked up a fork and was about to have some eggs, when he put the fork down suddenly. “Condoms. What about the condoms?”

Arthur looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I was kind of hoping to avoid any embarrassment.”

“Oh, no.” Merlin moaned. He was sure he would be the one embarrassed. And he was right.

“Well, you kind of made a pass at me. You wanted to have sex, and then have ice cream afterward. I said no and you went to sleep.”

Merlin sighed. “So nothing happened.” It was more a statement than a question.

Arthur got up and went to the refrigerator. “Of course nothing happened.” There was a slight edge to his voice. He turned around and gestured at the table. “Are you going to eat or what? If you’re not going to eat, I will.”

Merlin picked up his fork wordlessly. He stared down at his plate as something from last night came back to him.

_Merlin grabbed a box of condoms and threw Arthur down on the bed. He quickly straddled Arthur and dumped the contents of the box all over them. Most of the condoms landed on the floor._

_“Come on, Arthur. Don’t you want me?”_

_Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and reversed their positions. He looked down at Merlin. “Of course I do. I would love nothing more than to bend you over this bed and bury my head between my cheeks and do what I’ve wanted to do for so long. I’d eat you out until I hit that sweet spot that had you a sobbing mess and just begging me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight for another week.”_

_Merlin was practically there already._

_“But I won’t. I’m a patient man, Merlin. And I’ve waited to long to have you to waste it on a drunken shag. You mean more to me than that.”_

Merlin couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as Arthur sat down.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Nothing.” Merlin decided to save this information for when he could really do something about it. For now, he just watched Arthur and basked in the knowledge that his feelings were actually reciprocated. This was the best hangover ever.

* * *

**#33**

When Merlin returned home, Arthur sat hunched in his very rumpled suit, staring morosely at a shot glass and an open bottle. 

The only light was the green shimmer from Arthur's aquarium by the couch.

Merlin sighed. “The board meeting didn't go well, I take it?”

Arthur grimaced and poured liquid from the shot glass down his throat with practised ease. 

“Arthur...?”

“My father's just... he's never content! I'm never good enough! Fuck it. Just forget about it.”

“You seem well on your way to oblivion, true. But this isn't the way to deal.”

Arthur slumped back, staring blindly at the ceiling. Next to him the aquarium bubbled soothingly, a small world of lush plants, rocks, goldfish and a turtle. 

In the sheen from the tank Arthur's face looked drawn and faintly green. His hands were trembling. 

Worried now, Merlin sat down next to him. 

They'd been best mates in childhood, but their paths diverged when Arthur started on his business degree while Merlin struggled (and frequently failed) to make ends meet as an artist. When they reconnected years later, Arthur had immediately offered to let Merlin room with him. Just until Merlin's gravity-defying art installations gained recognition and the big money started rolling in, he'd explained. Merlin was deeply grateful.

He nudged his friend. “You're the best manager Pendragon Industries could possibly have. Don't do this to yourself.”

Arthur snickered. “I'm a failure. The earnings are down. My strategic errors are very disappointing.”

“Didn't your father approve that strategy himself?”

Arthur shrugged and reached for the bottle. 

There was a soft splash as the little turtle launched itself from a rock into the water. Merlin studied it. An idea was forming. He acted quickly, before he could regret it. 

He gestured at the aquarium, whispering a word of command. His eyes glowed golden. 

The green light blinked out. 

Arthur hiccuped in surprise. “Don't kill my goldfish!” 

The light returned. Merlin grinned in delight. His magic was not always reliable, but this time it had obeyed him.

“Arthur, look!”

The turtle had been transformed into a tiny grey animal, bobbing jauntily in the water. It had flippers, whiskers and a friendly, open face. 

Arthur drew a shaking hand across his eyes. “God, I'm so sloshed! I'm _seeing_ things!”

“Please don't be so hard on yourself,” the little creature admonished.

“Augh! That grey blob is _talking!_ ” Arthur pulled back, nearly landing in Merlin's lap. 

“Everything will be OK,” the animal assured him.

“This is a calming manatee, Arthur.” Merlin's voice was gentle. “My spirit animal, and my gift to you. It will always be here to support you and to remind you what a wonderful person you truly are.”

The tiny manatee in the water looked at them with a benign expression. “You're stronger together. Love conquers all. Why aren't you fucking?”

“Ehm...” Merlin said, blushing. His magic was playing tricks on him! “Hush, you silly animal!” 

Cross-eyed, Arthur turned to face Merlin. “Yes, why _aren't_ we fucking?” he inquired.

“Because you're very drunk? Because you'd be horrified later, and hate me forever?”

“I would not!” Arthur exclaimed with inebriated earnestness. “I love you. I've pined and I've lusted and I've wanked _so much_. I want you right now!” 

“Fortune favours the brave,” the manatee intoned approvingly from the glass tank. 

Merlin only hesitated a moment. “Manatee, avert your eyes!” he ordered.

The grey creature obediently disappeared behind the water plants.

x - x - x

Merlin woke up aching deliciously all over. There wasn't a position they hadn't tried. Magic was extremely useful during sexual acrobatics.

Arthur was lying squashed against him on the couch, heavy and sated, snoring softly. 

Merlin wrinkled his nose. The two of them stunk of sweat and semen and morning-after breath, and they seemed to literally be glued together. He wriggled. 

Arthur opened his eyes. 

“Good morning, I hope the sex was prolonged and satisfactory,” the calming manatee said.

“Oh, it was great!” Arthur confirmed enthusiastically. He smiled at Merlin. “You actually have magic? That wasn't just delirium?”

“I do have magic.“ Merlin admitted his big secret with a slight tremor in his voice.

Arthur rubbed against him happily. “It's brilliant! Just imagine how we'll use your levitation skills! Oh Merlin, I love you!”

The tiny manatee looked them over, sniffing pointedly. “Why aren't you fucking right now.... in the shower?”

* * *

**#34**

Gwaine never had good ideas. Sure they usually sounded great at the time but, somehow, they always come back to bite Merlin in the ass. 

Case in point: after a round of training in temperatures that could melt dragon scales, Gwaine expressed the need to hit a pub for some booze and someone to warm his sheets. Or as he put it, “ _I think its a sure sign I need to get laid when every cloud in the sky looks like a penis._ ” At least, that was what Merlin thought he meant.

Of course, once you allowed one knight to go to the pub...they all wanted to go. If that wasn’t asking for trouble, Merlin didn’t know what was.

At least they traveled outside Camelot’s walls to a neighboring village pub where Arthur would not be so recognized easily. Merlin kept to a darkened corner, where he drank tankard after tankard of water because ale did not aid in Merlin’s duty to keep Arthur safe.

His devotion to avoiding drunkenness didn’t help much when someone decided to throw a punch at Gwaine. 

And, of course, once one a drunk knight was hit, the chain reaction sparked, and all of them dived into the fight.

Merlin did his best to have Arthur’s back--with a little help from his magic--but even great magical powers were no match for a sucker punch to the back of the head. And with that last event, Merlin’s world went black. 

Merlin awoke with a fuzzy-looking Arthur and the night sky in his view. He closed his eyes again with a groan. The pounding in his head had a rhythm that reminded Merlin of a blacksmith's hammer, shaping a stubborn piece of metal, and it only got stronger with each breath. 

“Only you would be stupid enough to get hit on the head, _Mer_ lin. Haven’t you learned by now to watch your back?”

Merlin raised a hand across his eyes. His head hurt too much to deal with Arthur in all his prat-ness. 

“I thought, by now, you would have learned never to follow Gwaine into a pub. Hell, Arthur, we _met_ him during a fight in a pub... that _he_ started.”

Merlin heard a rustling of leaves and dirt near his head. Arthur must have felt a little guilty if he was reduced to common fidgeting. Merlin sighed. “Is everyone ok?” 

“Yeah. Percival and Elyan didn’t take it well when they saw you go down. The fight was pretty much done after that.” Arthur sat down next to Merlin with a huff. “You know they are _my_ knights, yet it seems that they have more loyalty to _you_.”

Merlin felt the corner of his lips curl up at that. “This is why I’ve been _telling_ you to stop being a royal prat from day one. Friends are a wonderful thing, always helping out when you’re in trouble.”

“I’ll have you know I help out plenty of times! Like last night.”

Merlin gave Arthur’s knee a playful shove. “I don’t see how my mouth on your cock was helping me out.”

“Well,” Arthur drawled out the word as Merlin felt him adjust his body at Merlin’s side. Arthur’s fingers lightly ran across his skin above the waist of Merlin’s pants. “It helps because _now_ I owe _you_.”

Merlin’s breath hitched when he felt Arthur’s thumb follow is hipbone, sliding into Merlin’s pants. “Arthur-”

“Just lay back, I’ll do everything,” Merlin was too focused on Arthur’s fingers on his skin to notice when Arthur loosened the fashings to his pants. “Plus, I hear it can be good for headaches.”

“Some how, I don’t think that’s confirmed medical--oh, good God!” 

The happy hum from Arthur tingled down Merlin’s cock, all the way down to his toes. Merlin’s eyes cracked open, looking up at the darkened night sky. Sometimes Gwaine’s bad ideas _did_ come out better then Merlin could have pictured.

* * *

**#35**

They’ve been texting back and forth all afternoon. It’s not unusual for them, especially with work keeping them up at different hours of the day. Even now, as she eyes the guy sitting at the bar across from her, Morgana’s phone beeps and buzzes obnoxiously. She smirks a little and lifts the vodka and orange that the guy has sent her way before looking down.

“ _Well?_ ”

“ _Hook, line and sinker. :P_ ” she types quickly before lifting her head and looking at the guy across from her. She takes a sip of her drink before running the tip of her tongue across her full, lower lip. “ _Drink purchased, reeling in now._ ” She looks down and hits ‘send’.

She lifts her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder and doing her best to look as though she has nothing better to do this evening. Her phone beeps again.

“ _You’re so fucking predictable._ ” Comes the response and she throws her head back and laughs.

“ _Like you’re not?_ ” She texts back. “ _Let me guess, last night you hooked up with some blond, athletic type. Not too smart, but not a total fuckwit?_ ”

“ _STFU._ ” Is the reply and she chuckles, all the while eyeing the guy across from her.

“ _Love you too... :P_ ”

The phone stays silent and she slips it into her pocket with perfect timing as Bar Guy, slides out of his seat and moves towards her.

“Hi,” says Bar Guy, all smooth, Irish charm and easy smile. “My name’s Gwaine. Can I get you another drink?”

\----

Gwaine has Morgana pinned against the wall in the darkest corner of the club. His hands are cupping her arse through the material of her knickers and his breath is hot and damp against her neck. 

A tiny whimper escapes Morgana’s throat as he grinds his hips against hers and encourages her to wrap her long legs around his waist. She wants this. Has wanted it since she walked into the bar where he’d picked her up. Tonight is one of those nights where she wishes she was a witch, so she could just magic them back to her flat – or his – or at least cast some kind of spell that would keep anyone from looking too close.

His fingers tug at the elastic of her knickers, and a heady mixture of arousal and adrenaline wash over her. Her heart is pounding in time with the bass from the music that’s blasting from a nearby speaker and she adjusts her skirt, frowning momentarily as something digs uncomfortably into her hip. She drags her fingers away from Gwaine’s shoulder, laughing as he groans into her neck, and wriggles her phone from her pocket.

She holds onto the phone, her grip tightening around it as she feels two blunt digits press into her, stealing her breath away; at the same time as her phone buzzes and sends a tiny frisson of pleasure up her arm. Without thinking, she thumbs at the blinking screen and sees that she has several missed calls and a bunch of messages.

As Gwaine’s thumb brushes against her clit, sending her head sliding forward to rest on his shoulder, she taps on her phone to view the latest message from Merlin. She scrolls down the list, ignoring his rambling about how he’s not as predictable as she is, that he doesn’t always go for blond, athletic types; Morgana’s positive that if she weren’t currently being fingered in the middle of a club on the high street, she’d probably be calling him on his bullshit, and telling him to just fucking speak to Arthur already; when she gets to the very last message in the conversation.

“ _Sidebar: I fucked your brother last night._ ”

She chokes and her legs tighten around Gwaine’s waist at the same time he does something incredibly amazing with his thumb and forefinger, and all Morgana can think is that she’s going to kill Merlin for making her think of her best friend and her brother, fucking each other stupid during the first sex she’s had in months.

* * *

**#36**

_What were you even doing at knitting society??_

_Looking for freshers_ , Morgana texted Arthur back.

Her phone blinked a moment later. _Pervert_.

She rolled her eyes. _It’s not my fault I help girls realise they’re lesbians_.

*

And really, what was she supposed to do? Everyone her age was looking for relationships. Morgana was already in a committed relationship with her PHD thesis. She was after no-strings-attached sex, and there was no better place to get it than bi-curious freshers.

It had all gone a bit tits-up this time, though. Somehow she’d ended up arranging a coffee date. Actually, she wasn’t sure it was even a date. “I can’t believe you don’t know how to crochet.” Gwen tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “It’s my favourite kind of knitting – I can teach you, if you like –”

Morgana didn’t know how to knit, full stop, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She leaned forward, so that Gwen would _have_ to notice how low-cut her top was. Gwen stuttered for a moment and wrapped her hands around her mug. “What sort of PHD are you doing? I don’t even know how PHDs work. How long does it take?”

A stupidly long time, apparently. Three coffee maybe-dates and Morgana wasn’t any closer to getting into Gwen’s knickers. She wasn’t sure why she was still trying. Probably Gwen was straight and hadn’t realised Morgana wasn’t straight, and the whole thing was a lost cause.

But Gwen was pretty, and absolutely precious. She was a first-year nursing student, and she liked knitting and hot chocolate and sitcoms. And she was single, Morgana learned on their third coffee seriously-is-this-a-date.

“My boyfriend broke up with me right before we left for uni,” she said. “I cried for a week.” Gwen sipped her hot chocolate. Morgana had bought it for her. “So do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” Morgana was about to launch into her usual spiel about being married to her thesis, but thought better of it. “Actually, I’m gay.”

“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed. With an air of reassurance, she said, “that’s fine.” As if Morgana didn’t already know that.

Two more coffee probably-not-dates and a failed attempt to teach her crochet later, Morgana gave up. She got a bit drunk and texted Gwen. _I’m gay_.

The response came a few minutes later. _I know_.

 _Yeah, but for you_. Morgana poured herself another drink and waited. When there was still no response the next morning, she thought for sure she’d fucked it up.

But Gwen texted her that evening – one word, _drinks??_ And a happy face and a rainbow emoji.

*

_In case you're wondering what I'm doing, I'll be banging an 18 year old this weekend. Repeatedly_ , she texted Arthur that Friday.

 _Perverrrrt_.

 _You’re just jealous_.

*

“I’ve never done this with another girl before,” said Gwen. “Actually, I’ve only done it with one guy – oh!” she exclaimed as Morgana slipped off her bra. Then, “ _ohh_ ,” as Morgana pressed her mouth to Gwen’s breast. She ran her tongue across Gwen’s nipple to hear her squeal.

“How do you feel about strap-ons?” She had two. She went for the double-ended one, and made a point of explaining to Gwen how it worked, if she didn’t know.

“Well, you’re bigger than my ex.” Gwen traced her fingers down the smooth silicon.

“Probably not difficult,” said Morgana.

Gwen’s pussy was shaved, which wasn’t that big of a surprise, and it made things a lot smoother. Morgana slipped her fingers in between her folds, then held her open and nudged the strap-on in. Gwen squeaked and gasped, and pushed up for it, pushing the other end into Morgana. Morgana’s back arched, and her hips stuttered forward.

She fucked Gwen till she was gasping at every thrust, till the strap-on made a slick sound as it moved in and out of her, till her own cunt was clenching around the other end. Gwen said, “please,” like a polite little girl, and Morgana reached down to play with her clit until she came.

When she eased the strap-on out Gwen’s pussy clutched at it, as if reluctant to let it go. “I think I could be gay,” said Gwen. She didn’t say it like _I think I might be gay_ , more like _I think I could get used to this_. Morgana looked up at her, all sweaty and debauched and gorgeous.

Morgana thought, _I think I could be less married to my thesis_. “Want to go again?”

* * *

**#37**

“I’m going to go to the restroom; will you watch my stuff?” Gwen stood, shouldering her purse. Arthur waved her off, waiting until she rounded the corner to snag her power cord. He didn’t know why she gave him a hard time for sharing — there wasn’t much point in bringing his own when their laptops were the same. 

He didn’t notice that she’d left her phone on the table until it started buzzing. Curious, he picked it up. Merlin had texted—

_He is like a dragon that makes me want to spread my butt cheeks, so he can fill me with hot fire._

“You miserable thief!” Gwen laughed, and Arthur dropped her phone, heart hammering.

“What?” he said, watching her eyes flicker between the table and his undoubtedly guilty expression. 

“You took my power cord,” she said, suspiciously checking her phone. Her eyes widened and she fixed Arthur with her most lethal disappointed frown. He held up his hands.

“I didn’t mean to look!” 

“But you did!” 

“You read my texts all the time.” Arthur pointed out. 

“Yes, but Vivian’s idea of sexting is asking what you’re buying her today.” 

That hit a little below the belt, even if it was true. 

“Why did Merlin send that to you, anyway? Shouldn’t your disturbing sexts be coming from Gwaine?” Arthur asked, stomach rolling at the thought of Merlin holding himself...open…for anyone. He knew Merlin liked both men and women in the same abstract way he knew some people experienced poverty. It had never touched his life so explicitly before. 

“That’s none of your business,” Gwen said. 

“Was he talking about me?” Arthur pressed. 

“Oh my _god_.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, snapping her laptop shut. “Gwaine and I invited him over. The three of us—” she broke off, pressing her lips together. “The details are not mine to share, except that he definitely wasn’t talking about you,” she said, with more cheery certainty than Arthur thought he deserved. 

He let it go for several minutes before muttering “Kinky,” under his breath, just for the payback benefit of watching her blush.

——————————————————

Arthur was straight. He watched straight porn and sneaked subtle looks at Gwen’s cleavage and had casual sex with Vivian when she was bored enough to tolerate him for an evening. But he’d challenge any man to discover his friends had indulged in a Devil’s three-way and not picture it.

And he did. In great, selective detail. He’d exhausted three jerkoff sessions in as many days imagining Gwen sweaty and panting between two nondescript men. Mostly because Gwaine’s face did not belong anywhere near Arthur’s fantasies, and he was hesitant to imagine what Merlin’s role had been. Had he fucked Gwen? Did he like breasts the way Arthur did? The soft, round weight in his palm and a hard nipple for his thumb to flick? Did his cock ache for the slick clench of a pussy, or… 

Arthur pressed his face into his pillow, hunching reflexively over the churn of his sheets. _Gwen_. Gwen’s long neck, Gwen’s soft skin, Gwen’s high moans. 

But Merlin, he— he liked, he _said_... 

And the image came unbidden: Merlin’s white hand clenched around the soft curve of Gwen’s thigh, face buried between her legs while his body absorbed thrust after thrust after thrust—

Arthur reared up on his elbows, fists clenched around the headboard to give him the leverage he needed to fuck his orgasm into the mattress.

——————————————————

_Merlin gasping, Merlin touching himself with three fingers stuffed to the knuckles in his ass—_

Arthur closed his eyes and held his breath, desperately willing his mind back to his spreadsheets and expense reports. 

_Merlin, taking it like a woman; Merlin, covered in come—_

He had the presence of mind to check each stall before locking himself in the last one, reaching for his fly with shaking hands. 

_Merlin begging, Merlin desperate_

——————————————————

“Arthur, what?” Merlin said, letting himself be ushered away from their mingling friends into a silent room at the back of the house.

There, Arthur kissed him, breath catching like it hurt, ignoring Merlin’s flailing and sudden stillness. 

When he pulled away, Merlin’s eyes gleamed in the half-light, studying Arthur for a long, quiet moment. 

“Please,” Arthur whispered, unsure what he was asking for — aching and confused until

 _Merlin smiling, brushing his fingers over Arthur’s cheek._

_Merlin reaching behind him to lock the door._

_Merlin gently taking Arthur’s hand and sliding slowly to his knees._

* * *

**#38**

“Anyway, my grandfather thinks you’re attractive,” Mordred yells to outcry the music. He takes a swig from his beer and winks at a dumbfound Cenred.

“I have so many questions I won’t pose a single one,” Cenred manages finally. Does he know Mordred’s grandfather? Is said grandfather at the party? Why is Mordred privy to such information and, above all, what brings Mordred’s grandfather to a horny adolescents’ party? Cenred looks around, half-expectant to see a jolly old man in a Hawaiian shirt.

“You boys know how to party, hm?”

Cenred hasn’t noticed when Mordred has gone away. He turns to see the owner of the unfamiliar voice talking to him. Leaning against the wall stands a middle-aged man dressed in tight jeans and unbuttoned dark shirt with sleeves rolled up; little is left to the imagination. Cenred swallows. The man is almost as tall as him, Cenred has probably only a centimetre or two on him. This is totally not happening. “Let me guess, you must be Mordred’s grandfather,” he says instead.

The man gives him a wicked smile and extends a hand. “Aredian.” He introduces himself. Cenred takes the offered hand. Aredian has a strong grip. In the mixed light Cenred cannot tell if Aredian’s hair and close-trimmed beard are completely white or they still retain some of their natural colour. He’s been originally blond or ginger once. Aredian is very handsome – the tell-tale signs of his age only add an air of maturity to his strong presence, to which Cenred cannot help but feel attracted to.

“Cenred.” 

Less than five minutes later they’re desecrating Mordred and Percy’s bed. Aredian is leaning back against the pillows; his hand has unbuttoned Cenred’s jeans and palms and teases Cenred’s cock through the fabric of his boxer shorts. Cenred is on his knees and forearms, thrusting his hips against Aredian’s indulging hand. He’s tongue-deep into Aredian’s mouth, and the way Aredian sucks his tongue and kisses back does little to silence Cenred’s whimpering. 

A deft finger circles around the slit of his cock, rubbing it every now and then. It sends his hips jolting and he is unable to suppress the high-pitched whines of pleasure that bubble in the back of his throat. He’s a mess – he knows as much – and he’s so horny he feels faint; all he wants to do is thrust into Aredian’s hand until he comes.

Aredian squeezes Cenred’s cock and the latter breaks their kiss with a gasp. He takes a deep breath – if Aredian goes on like this… He grinds the whole of his length against Aredian’s palm. The initial pleasure quickly builds up and shoots through his cock; he’s really close. Aredian takes the hint. “You want to come, boy?” He teases. He plants his other hand on Cenred’s chest and pushes him up until Cenred’s back is arched and he’s on his wide-spread knees. He takes the end of his tee between his teeth, and is pleased to see Aredian biting his bottom lip.

Aredian hooks his index finger in the waistband of Cenred’s underwear and pulls it; Cenred’s cock jolts up and Aredian lets go of the fabric to pin it in place. He gives his hand a thorough lick and palms Cenred, eliciting small, needy noises from him. He rubs the heel of his hand over the length of Cenred’s cock, making sure that the wet of his palm will slide over the head. Cenred tosses his head back and moans. “That’s it,” Aredian purrs. He shoves Cenred’s cock back into his underwear and starts rubbing his palm against its length. “Come on, cream your pants for me, boy. That’s a good boy, there…”

Cenred grabs Aredian’s hand to steady it and grinds against it. The feeling is incredible; in a few seconds he’s coming hard, pleasure shooting through him. He’s a good boy, he’s creamed his pants – he can feel the warmth of his come soaking his underwear, and it only makes him grind harder. Aredian murmurs something soft and sweet.

Cenred groans and slumps forward. He’s too sated to care that Mordred’s very attractive grandfather has given him a handjob. First comes returning the favour.

* * *

**#39**

The slick sound of flesh hitting flesh through the phone was enough to have Arthur bolting upright on the couch and nearly dash from the room to get away from his relatives.

“ _Mer_ lin,” he gritted out, retreating to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“ _Watching porn,_ ” came the simple answer. “ _Or, I was until you called._ ”

Rather than demand Merlin close his laptop for five minutes and listen to the reason Arthur called, Arthur licked his lips, looked around, and asked, “Care to tell me exactly what you’re watching that has you unable to take your hand off your dick at the sound of my voice?”

A soft groan sounded through the speaker. “ _I’ve been browsing and edging for the last hour. At this point, pretty much everything is only going to make my problem harder._ ”

Arthur headed straight for the stairs and took them two at a time in the rush to get to the complete privacy of his bedroom. Already, his cock was starting to swell with interest.

“Including the idea of me being your temporary porn replacement?”

Merlin let out a shaky sigh. “Especially _the idea of you being my porn replacement._ ”

Mouth open to respond, Arthur froze as he opened the door to his bedroom. 

There was someone already in his room, on his bed. And not just any someone, but his cousin, Morgause. She had disappeared earlier, claiming she was going to pop some sleeping pills to nip her jetlag in the bud to prevent it from interfering with the family’s holiday. And here she was curled up under his blankets, sleeping soundly.

“ _…Arthur?_ ” The teasing confidence had gone from Merlin’s voice at Arthur’s prolonged silence. 

“Sorry. Just…” Arthur looked around and spotted his walk-in closet. Glancing back at Morgause, he hoped the pill she took was strong enough to keep her dead to the world and strode toward his closet. “Keeping talking to me for a minute?”

A breathy chuckle whispered in his ear, sending shivers through his shoulders.

“ _About what? How I’ve been looking through gifs of men grinding for the last five minutes? I’ve discovered I’m particularly fond of the ass to cock grind myself._ ”

Arthur shut the closet door behind him a bit harder than intended and nearly stumbled into a rack of clothes in his haste to move his laundry basket out of the way to provide himself with a muffled corner to hide in.

“ _Or maybe you’d rather hear about how I’m leaking so bad my thighs are uncomfortably wet and Arthur, you have no idea how weird that feels._ ”

Arthur abruptly sat down, his zipper only halfway undone, thanks to his knees no longer being strong enough to support him.

“Jesus Christ,” Arthur cursed, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye as he rode out the abrupt wave of _want_ that coursed through him. He finished pulling himself out and gave his cock a single squeeze to help bring it to complete hardness. “Tell me about some of the really good ones.”

“ _Hmm, let’s see…Oh, there’s this one where the guy on top has his arms wrapped around the other guy’s torso from behind and he’s just rutting into the other guy like –_ ” Merlin’s breath hitched. “ _—completely animalistic. He looks a bit like you, actually. And the other guys is squirming, a really good squirming—_ ”

“Do you wish it was me?” Arthur interrupted, swallowing down the heat that was flooding through him at the thought.

It was now Merlin’s turn to curse. Arthur bit his lip as he listened to the words die away into heavy panting and he began to pump himself in earnest.

“You do, don’t you? You wish it was me behind your right now. Holding you. Grinding into you like I was trying to fuck you—”

Merlin’s breathing grew into groans and strained cries that were constantly cut off only to start again. Shit, Merlin was coming. Coming to the thought of Arthur.

Arthur’s hand sped up and his lips parted as he did his best to stay silent so he could listen to his roommate ride through the waves of his orgasm. The sounds pushed him to the edge far faster than he was used to, and he was left teetering there, fighting with himself for that small push needed to tip the balance.

“Come on,” he gritted out. “Please, please, please…”

It was Merlin who came to his rescue. A choked out “ _Arthur,_ ” was spoken with the last vestiges of his orgasm and was all Arthur needed to send his cock pulsing and seed splashing.

For a long moment afterwards, they remained quiet, trying to gather their wits. It was Arthur who broke the silence.

“So, I just masturbated in my walk-in closet.”

He had every intention of explaining _why_ , but that would apparently have to wait until Merlin was done laughing.

* * *

**#40**

Merlin has never really understood the big deal about handjobs. Sure they’re cool, but frankly, sometimes his own hand does a better job. 

Merlin is revising that opinion.

“What are you _doing_ ,” he hisses, and turns his face to look out the window at the scenery flashing past. 

“Nothing,” Gwaine says serenely, and then patently disproves that by slowly sliding down the zipper of Merlin’s jeans, making sure to brush against the entirety of Merlin’s dick while he does so. 

“This is - you can’t - ” Merlin starts, but Gwaine shushes him with a small kiss. 

“You were complaining about how you’re too tired to get off recently,” Gwaine says in a low voice, straight in Merlin’s ear. Merlin shudders. “I bet I can get you off anyway.” 

He’s been torturing Merlin since they got on this bloody train, touching Merlin everywhere, light brushes against his thighs and neck, leaning in to whisper things in his ear, his beard scratching against Merlin’s jaw. 

“Fuck,” Merlin says, a little too loud because the woman sitting across the aisle from them looks over disapprovingly. 

Gwaine shoots her a charming smile and then turns back towards Merlin. He slides his dick over the waistband of his boxers, up under his tshirt. He’s leaning forward, blocking the view from the aisle, but still. They’re on a _train_.

“Gwaine…” is as far as he gets before Gwaine rolls his eyes, takes Merlin’s dick in his hand and starts stroking. It feels fucking amazing. 

Gwaine has great hands, big and strong, just the right kind of calluses on his fingertips. Merlin has a type, he can acknowledge that, and Gwaine fits it pretty much to a t. 

“You couldn’t have done this last night?” Merlin asks, gritting his teeth and thrusting up a little into Gwaine’s grip. His fingers are doing amazing things to the head of Merlin’s dick. 

“More fun like this,” Gwaine says, grinning. His face is so close to Merlin’s and Merlin wants to kiss him, but that would only draw more attention. Fuck. Trust his distressingly gorgeous flatmate to finally jump him when Merlin can’t climb all over him like he wants to. 

Gwaine starts stripping Merlin’s cock faster, and Merlin is getting close, it’s been too bloody long, and he’s about ten seconds away from coming when Gwaine _stops_.

Merlin’s eyes fly open. 

“No, wait, why - ” he protests, and then he realises the train isn’t moving and people are standing and moving in the aisles. Gwaine tucks Merlin’s coat around him a little and sits back, pretending to read his newspaper, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. 

Merlin truly hates him.

Once they’re moving again, Gwaine folds the paper and leans forward again, shielding Merlin with his body.

“I hate you,” Merlin breathes as Gwaine starts jerking him off again, somehow keeping the movement subtle enough to not look suspicious as hell, but still feel amazing on Merlin’s cock. 

Gwaine grins and leans in to kiss Merlin’s neck lightly. “I know,” he replies. 

It only takes another minute or so for Merlin to come, biting his lip against the sounds that want to burst out. He slumps back into his seat, feeling lazy and sleepy. Gwaine wipes his hand on the inside of Merlin’s t-shirt, gross, and then sits back, grinning. 

Merlin stares at him for a long moment before he realises something. 

“I have to go to work in this fucking shirt!” he hisses, punching Gwaine on the arm. 

The train slides to a halt at Gwaine’s stop (how are they here already?) and Gwaine stands. 

“Packed you a spare in your bag,” Gwaine says. He leans down and kisses Merlin square on the lips. “I’ll see you back home,” he adds, with a wink that leaves Merlin in no doubt of what is going to happen when he gets home later. Gwaine hops off the train.

It’s only now that he’s gone, and Merlin actually realises that he just had sex on public transport _during peak hour_. Jesus. His mother would have some cutting things to say about his current life choices. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket. 

**To: Gwaine  
If I ever go to jail it will be because of you, I can feel it.**

**From: Gwaine  
You love it.**

Merlin kind of does.

* * *

**#41**

**Gods I Don’t Believe In**

Merlin had closed the door on Morgana’s party and lit his cigarette before he realized he wasn’t alone in the massive Pendragon House garden.

“You’re one of Gana’s friends from work,” a voice drawled from the far corner of the patio. 

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed, giving his name again. “You?”

A flare of light briefly lit a blond fringe. A snort cut the darkness. “Brother. Arthur. We met earlier. Escaping all that relentless heteronormativity in there.”

“Big words for a uni student,” Merlin said. They smoked in silence for a moment, until the man flicked his carelessly into the grass.

“I’ve finished my degree, I’ll have you know,” he said. Merlin’s eyes began to adjust, and the outline of Morgana’s very fit younger brother appeared. 

“Relax, it’s a great party, and they’re not all straight,” he said, walking over to put his fag out in the ashtray on the picnic table around the side of the patio. “Go find someone to dance with or something.”

“You offering?” Arthur asked.

Merlin leaned against the table, considering for a moment. He wasn’t used to someone quite so hostile being quite so forward. Suddenly he found Arthur not an inch from him. “I don’t dance,” Merlin finally answered.

“I don’t want to dance anyway,” Arthur said, sliding a hand along Merlin’s side to press into the small of his back. He leaned closer to Merlin, and breathed along his jaw. “This okay?”

He didn’t answer, but turned his head to catch Arthur’s lips for a kiss. It didn’t feel like their first, and Merlin hoped it wasn’t the last. Arthur sucked his lip and Merlin moaned, breaking the silence. 

Merlin tugged Arthur’s red shirt lose from his jeans and slid his hands up to pinch at Arthur’s nipples. Arthur crowded between Merlin’s legs and pressed his hard, denim covered cock against him. One of them gasped; it didn’t matter who. Arthur reached down to cover the lump in Merlin’s trousers, and Merlin slid his hands around the rounded globes of Arthur’s arse, wondering for a moment when Arthur’s jeans had been undone. 

“Want to fuck you,” Arthur panted, punctuating his statement with a thrust from his hips. “Or fuck me, I don’t care,” he added.

“Yeah, yeah, good, yes,” Merlin agreed, and suddenly his belt was undone and Arthur’s hands were past his trousers and in his pants. Merlin was harder than he ever remembered being. Arthur produced a condom and packet of lube from God knew where. Merlin found himself turned around, his trousers down to his knees and his pants pushed just down far enough. Arthur kneeled, parted Merlin’s arsecheeks and licked into his hole like it was his goddamned _job_. Merlin went weak in the knees and sagged against the top of the picnic table. Arthur slid one lubed finger, then two fingers, in beside his tongue, working Merlin open. 

Merlin felt empty, wanton, needy. He coveted Arthur’s cock, and found himself praying aloud to be given it. Finally, he just begged.

“Fuck me, oh God, fuck me, please!” he all but cried, and Arthur did. He fed inch by glorious fat inch of that golden cock into Merlin’s needy hole, soothing the ache he’d created. 

He didn’t stop there. He fucked him slow, holding him down on the table until Merlin was a begging, crying mess, and then he fucked him fast, jerking his dick until Merlin cried out to all the gods that he was Arthur’s, his alone.

And then Merlin came. 

Hot white spurts of cum covered the picnic table, and Arthur pulled out, careful of Merlin becoming too sensitive. Merlin turned and dropped to his knees, and Arthur grasped his head and fucked his mouth, finally cumming down his throat in pulses that made him cry Merlin’s name.

After a few minutes, Merlin stood. “You look wrecked,” he said.

“You’ve no room to talk, Merlin. We can’t go back in like this. Gana will kill us.”

“Better not risk it,” Merlin agreed. 

“Come up to my old room, first, so we can get cleaned up,” Arthur said.

Merlin kissed him.

“Or maybe we can get to know each other better,” Arthur amended. 

They never did make it back to the party. When Gwen asked Merlin the next day whether he’d disappeared with Morgana’s brother, Merlin’s return text said it all.

* * *

**#42**

Merlin glared at the model. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” 

The guy – Arthur? – glanced up, ”A favour.” He shrugged and spread himself out, his rigid dick bobbing merrily. “This pose ok?” He arched an eyebrow and smirked like nothing was up.

“You can’t… I can’t let my students and the observer come into the classroom with you at full mast! This is my job, you twat.” 

“What, this little thing?” Arthur said, casually trailing his fingers down his erect cock. 

Merlin swallowed. “Fine,” he said. “If you won’t do anything, I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare touch me.” Arthur said in a low voice, a challenge in his eyes. 

“Try me.” 

“If you lay one finger on me, I’ll sue you for assault.” 

Merlin’s temper flared... _Challenge accepted_ , he thought, leaning into Arthur’s personal space.

“Go on then,” he said as he wrapped his hand around Arthur’s dick. 

Arthur’s gaze locked on Merlin, emotions playing across his handsome face. Was Arthur daring him? _Game on, arsehole._

Merlin tightened his grip and squeezed experimentally; he couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. His students and school inspector were waiting just outside the door. The thought made a cold sweat trickle down his back, which only fuelled his own arousal. 

Arthur’s cock was thick and warm to touch, a little shorter than Merlin’s own but wider in girth. 

He ran his thumb down the vein on the underside, eliciting another small gasp from Arthur. Merlin thumbed Arthur’s slit, trying to get him to make the noise again. 

Still Arthur didn’t move. He leant back to allow Merlin space. _I’ll show you, you fucker,_ Merlin thought to himself. He swung one jean-clad leg over Arthur’s nude frame, straddling him. Merlin grinned down at Arthur, renewing his hold on the gorgeous cock in front of him.

“Bastard,” Arthur huffed under his breath.

Merlin arched over Arthur, his weight braced on one arm. He could see Arthur’s flared nostrils and dilated eyes, and smell his musky scent. Arthur’s breathing was rapid, and Merlin was sure he was panting too. 

The pulse and heat of Arthur’s cock, and pre-cum on Merlin’s fingers, was making his own cock was take interest; Merlin shifted his weight to ease the pressure. 

“What…? Argh!” Merlin shouted. 

Arthur suddenly pulled Merlin down over him completely, giving him a faceful of Arthur’s jaw up close, and a spectacular sensation of Arthur’s chest. _Oh my god oh my god._

“Shhh, Merlin, they’ll hear you,” Arthur purred into Merlin’s ear, his breath tickling and arousing him no end. Arthur licked the shell of his ear. “Keep moving, Mer-lin. Don’t stop now.” 

Merlin resumed his pace, his grip tightening slightly in retaliation. His groin pushed into Arthur’s muscular thigh and he groaned. The simulation of Arthur’s tongue, the feel of him so near and his hand on Arthur’s cock –- what the hell, was Merlin in a wet dream? 

They rocked together, gaining momentum.

Merlin was now using both hands on Arthur. It was sloppy and the rhythm stuttered and picked up. Merlin’s heart was already pounding, but loud knocking on the door and youthful voices made him even more frantic. His students were right outside but they couldn’t stop now, not when he was so close. He moved one hand down and cupped Arthur’s balls before running a finger further back and over Arthur’s hole.

Arthur gave a surprised sort of yelp and came all over Merlin’s jeans.  
The sight of it tipped Merlin over the edge. 

He slumped onto Arthur in a mess of tangled limbs and come. 

Arthur looked up at him, smirking even though blissed out. “Took care of two things after all. You might want to get cleaned up.”

* * *

**#43**

Merlin doesn’t know who came up with the splendid idea to attach a sprig of mistletoe to his head. It wasn’t him, that’s for certain, and the whole thing stinks of Gwaine, but the arsehole in question adamantly claims his innocence. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter, because basically everyone at this party is drunk enough not to remember a thing tomorrow. Too bad for them, who have to spend their train ride home being anxious about bad drunken decisions.

But not Merlin. He’s not going home this year. Some people think it’s sad to stay at uni over the holidays, but Merlin thinks it’ll be nice. It’ll be quiet and calm and he’ll eat a lot of chocolate and sleep in, and fine, yeah, maybe he’ll study a bit, too. Maybe. His mum is abroad with her new boyfriend, and Merlin would be bitter about it if she hadn’t been so damned happy. Instead, he’s looking forward to spending the £20 she sent him on Only Unhealthy Things.

This party wasn’t really what he had planned from the beginning, but – as it turns out – it is impossible to argue with Gwaine, Lance, and Gwen when they’ve decided on something. He still has to figure out who was the mistletoe instigator, though. He’s already got several wet and sloppy kisses from drunk girls who hope to “turn” him.

It won’t work, though. Merlin prefers boys. Always have, always will.

This year, he has been staring an awful lot at the neck of his psychology classmate. Blond, classically handsome with broad shoulders – and he’s fucking hot like a race car engine. Sadly, he’s also the university tease, and every single guy or girl he dates, he drops after a week or two. But Arthur never is left along for long. Everyone either wants to be him or do him.

Merlin – naturally – wants to do him.

Right now, he desperately hopes that either 1.) Arthur isn’t here, or 2.) Arthur is already so drunk he won't remember that Merlin is wandering around with a mistletoe glued to his hair.

Filling up his plastic cup with disgustingly lukewarm beer, Merlin tries to sneak out of the party hall to leave when he runs into someone. Since it’s Christmas and Merlin always seems to end up on the wrong end of sod’s law, of course it’s Arthur. 

Arthur is now also... quite wet.

“Oh,” Merlin says. “That was my beer.”

“’Oh’,” Arthur mimics, “’That was my shirt.’”

“You’re a dick.”

“You’re–” Arthur interrupts himself. “Is that mistletoe?”

Merlin glances up. “Yes,” he says and tries to tug it loose, but _fuck it_ , it hurts. “It’s not–”

That’s as far as he gets, because that’s when Arthur kisses him. Merlin’s heartbeat pounds in his ears and when it’s over they stare at each other – one incredulous, the other smug.

“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted since the day you saw me?” Arthur says, smirking, like the prick he is.

In a complete and uncharacteristic lack of self control, Merlin answers, “No, but it’s a good start,” and pushes at Arthur’s chest until he backs into the corridor wall. If this is the only chance Merlin gets...

Another kiss. It’s hurried, desperate, without finesse. Nice, though.

They find an unlocked supply closet, and when the door snaps shut behind them, Merlin doesn’t waste any time.

“Knees,” he says. “If you’re more than just a tease, that is.”

It’s mean, doing that. Offering up a challenge that Arthur can’t back down from. These athletic types are all the same, Merlin thinks. So unwilling to lose, they’ll do anything. 

There’s a sharp tug on his belt and Arthur sinks to his knees before him. “It was just to tease _you_.”

And damn it if Merlin doesn’t get hard at that, and damn it if Arthur actually turns out to be more than just a bit talented at sucking cock, and damn it if he isn’t a bit loud in this situation, too, just like he is in class. His moaning and licking and sucking make everything Merlin feels secondary, somehow, even though he’s the one getting the blowjob.

He comes onto Arthur’s shirt. Too soon. Arthur has to get himself off, muttering swearwords while he does. Then he comes on Merlin’s shoe and trouser leg.

It takes a while to recover, at least for Merlin. Arthur kisses him lazily, again and again until he responds.

“I need to...” Merlin breathes, “... thank someone for the mistletoe.”

“You really do.”

* * *

**#44**

_HELP_

_HELPPP_

_GWEN HELP_

_What’s going on? Are you okay?_

Merlin considered this question, glancing over at the naked man sprawled out on the bed beside him. Then he quickly turned away, his back to his sleeping bedmate, and continued to text furiously.

_NO. NOT OK. ARTHUR IS HERE._

_Was he a good shag?_

_GWEN_

_Was he?_

_I DON’T KNOW_

_Yeah you were pretty sloshed._

And then,

_Check your sent texts._

With a feeling of dread, Merlin scrolled back up to take a look.

 _This is a drunk text message,_ he read. _I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower._

—

“Gwen…. Gwen’s… a great girl, friend…. Not girlfriend, just... friend girl, friend,” Merlin explained to Arthur and his entourage of attractive male athletic-types. “She has a dog, and I love dogs! Only hers is….” He trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hands.

“Small?” suggested one. 

“Yes! Yes, but more… that.”

“Miniature?” offered Arthur, and Merlin clapped his hands.

“Yes! It’s _miniature!_ How do you spell ‘miniature?’”

—

_You also told me you were trying to call your phone with your phone because you thought you lost your phone._

“Shit,” Merlin said aloud, then froze, because the body next to him began to move. He watched as Arthur opened his eyes blearily, saw Merlin, and—

“ _Merlin?_ ” 

“…Yes.”

“We didn’t…” Arthur trailed off.

“I don’t remember.”

“Shit.”

“Shit?”

“Yes, shit.”

“Well, it’s your fault.”

Arthur sat up sharply. “ _My_ fault? You’re the one who appeared in _my_ bloody bed. How is it _my_ fault?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because someone decided it would be funny to arrange a tutoring session at a bar without telling his tutor that it was a bar.”

Arthur scoffed. “Maybe if the tutor hadn’t decided to get totally pissed—”

“And tutoree! You were just as drunk—”

“Tutoree isn’t even a word.”

“So _that’s_ what you want to talk about?” Merlin accused. “We just woke up bloody _naked_ in your _bed_ , and you want to talk about me making up a word?”

Arthur dropped back down onto the mattress and covered his face with his hands, making an irritated noise. “There’s a coffeemaker down the hall if you want some. Just go and… caffeinate.” 

Admittedly, coffee sounded really good.

—

_is arhtur a horny drink????_

Merlin hit send. When a minute had passed and Gwen hadn’t replied, he sent her another text.

_cus i thnk he is_

Another minute.

_u said he was bi rihgt?_

—

Merlin was almost finished with his coffee when Arthur came out of the shower, dripping and half-naked. Merlin averted his eyes, and if Arthur noticed, he didn’t say anything—just turned his back to Merlin and poured himself some coffee. It was easy to tell that Arthur was an athlete, Merlin thought. His shoulders alone—

Merlin looked away forcefully. 

As if sensing his gaze, Arthur glanced back, staring at Merlin for half a second before returning to his coffee.

“What?” Merlin asked challengingly. Arthur shrugged at the cabinet.

“Nothing,” he said, “just, you’re… uh… wearing my shirt.”

—

“Fuck, your shirt—”

“Yeah, I know, I know—”

“Take it—”

“ _I know_.”

The shirt disappeared. 

“So the legends are true…” Merlin mumbled, staring at Arthur’s chest. Arthur snorted, and then suddenly there was a mattress against Merlin’s back, and Arthur was on top of him, and it was a little hard to breathe but he didn’t care, because Arthur’s hand was in his pants and it was _amazing_.

“ _Fuck_ …” he groaned. Arthur’s lips moved to cover his in a sloppy kiss, wet and open. A few minutes passed, and the combination of Arthur’s mouth, the fantastic hand job, and the fact that this was _Arthur_ , in bed with him, in real life, had Merlin coming sooner than he would admit in the morning. 

When he’d recovered somewhat, he grabbed Arthur’s shoulder and sat up. “You’re not….” He gestured at the bulge in Arthur’s jeans. “You know.”

“How observant of you, _Merlin_.”

Merlin reached for the button on Arthur’s jeans. “Well, I can fix that.”

—

“I should probably go,” Merlin said, finishing the last of his coffee.

Arthur seemed to have been watching Merlin’s lips and throat as he swallowed. “Uh, yeah. Probably a good idea.”

“Yeah….”

They stayed where they were, Merlin at the table and Arthur standing next to the counter. There was a long silence.

“Yeah….”

In the end, Merlin didn’t leave. They kissed instead.

* * *

**#45**

Merlin giggled slightly hysterically at the situation he was currently in. 

He was bent over a desk in his mother's den with his pants around his ankles and his arse full of Arthur Pendragon's lubed fingers. 

"Jesus-fuck--," Merlin was having trouble keeping his appreciation of this situation at bay. 

Arthur Pendragon was the son of his mother's boss. This could literally lead to nothing but trouble but dammed if he would stop it at this point. Uther Pendragon, aforementioned boss, and Arthur were over visiting Hunith, aforementioned mother, to conduct some Christmas festivities. Right now, as Merlin was feeling Arthur slip in a third finger, his mother and her boss were making cookies in the kitchen blissfully unaware. 

He and Arthur had been eye-fucking across parties and get-togethers for months. All it took was Arthur finally introducing himself with that better-than-you smirk and those pretty bedroom eyes for Merlin to know it was finally time to make a move. It hadn't taken much persuasion to get Arthur to the den under the guise of watching a Christmas movie. 

Merlin's mobile vibrated with a text on the desk in front of him and Merlin rushed to catch it in case it was his mother. 

**Hey Merls! How's the xmas stuff goin?**

Merlin's heart slowed, it was just Gwen. If Arthur had noticed Merlin's slight panic he didn't show it, he continued to finger Merlin and started peppering biting kisses on the backs of his thighs. 

**Ttyl. In a situation.**

He sent the message and realized it would make Gwen worry and decided to elaborate. 

**Like I'm getting finger banged and our families are making cookies in the kitchen. Talk about terrifying.**

Merlin giggled again, satisfied with the message he sent and the reaction he was sure to receive, and put down his phone. At this, Arthur had finally decided to talk for the first time since he had pulled Merlin's pants down and bent him over the desk. 

"You know, Merlin, if you'd rather be somewhere else I can surely stop," He said with a raised eyebrow. Merlin looked back at him and smiled a bit evilly. 

"Awwww. Is someone jealous?" Merlin fought back a grin at the light blush that showed on Arthur's cheeks at his comment. Arthur stood up, still pounding his fingers inside of Merlin, and pressed his body against his back with his face in Merlin's neck. 

"What if I was?" Merlin shivered at the roughness in Arthur's voice and the breath that had been on his neck. God, this was going to drive him insane. 

Arthur removed his fingers and finally began removing his jeans. Merlin whined a bit at the emptiness but he was getting pretty tired of all this preparation and was ready, _so fucking ready_ , for the real thing. 

He heard a rip of a condom opening and groaned in anticipation. Arthur leaned down to whisper to him again. 

"Are you ready, love?" He mouthed against Merlin's neck and pushed his cock, so slowly, into him.  
Merlin arched his back and let out a strangled gasp. He felt hot all over. Arthur waited a bit then finally, _finally_ , began pounding into Merlin. 

_Oh. God._

It felt wonderful to be so _full_. 

Arthur grabbed Merin's jaw and gently pulled him into a soppy kiss. Merlin almost laughed at how the blond was treating him as if he was fragile. Arthur must have seen his face because he pulled back and slammed into Merlin. They both moaned rather loudly at the contact and Merlin nearly came when Arthur covered his mouth with his hand. 

"You. Need. To. Shut. _Up_." Arthur accented each of his words with and hard thrust. Merlin moaned at every word and was rewarded with a tight squeeze from Arthur's hand still on his mouth. 

He felt Arthur bite into his shoulder and came all over the wood of the desk as Arthur came inside of him. 

He laid his head on the coolness of the wood and felt Arthur slip out of him. They both winced. He lifted his head and turned around and saw Arthur wrap the condom in a tissue and put it in the pocket of his jeans he was now wearing again. Merlin sighed and pulled his pants up as well, fearing for the awkwardness that would most definitely ensue. 

Arthur used a tissue to wipe up the mess on the desk and grabbed Merlin's mobile, typing something in.

"Here's my number. Happy Christmas and all that," Arthur blushed, in what Merlin assumed was a rare show of shyness, and walked up the stairs towards the kitchen. 

Merlin grinned. Happy Christmas indeed.

* * *

**#46**

Freya sits on the sofa, sipping delicately at her wine. She watches as Morgause pins Sophia up against the wall and sucks her neck. Across the room, Mithian and Elena are rocking together on the floor. Elena's breasts have come out of her top and Freya watches, mesmerised, as they bounce up and down. On the chair beside them, Vivian is grinding on Morgana's lap, Morgana's hands fondling her ass.

This wasn't quite how she expected the evening to go. Granted, she had assumed her evening was going to be pretty sad before Morgana found her moping around the confectionary aisle in Tesco. After Morgana's initial blunder of “of course Merlin is dating Arthur, who doesn't know that?” she quickly back peddled and invited her to her bi-weekly 'book club', the quotation marks being key. Once they had gotten in the car, it was quickly explained that real book club had rapidly turned into girls only wine night and then the pretence had been dropped all together.

Another sip of wine and another glance around the room. Morgause had turned Sophia around so she was resting with her forehead on the wall. Maybe resting wasn't the best word for it, Freya acquiesced, as Sophia's moans seem to say otherwise. She watches, fascinated, as Morgause pulls a strap-on out of her purse like it's a perfectly normal thing to have lying about, and starts teasing the head around Sophia's entrance.

Freya tears her eyes away to look at the other couples but of course now it's turned into one big love pile on the floor; Elena kissing Vivian's neck, Vivian stroking Mithian from behind, Mithian with her head down in Morgana's lap. It's not fair, she thinks with another mouthful of wine. What are the protocols for this sort of thing? Even though you've been invited to a lesbian 'book club' orgy, how does one participate? Do you need an invitation to join a pairing? Can you walk over to a group and just dive in? What's the etiquette!? Freya crosses her legs, blood pulsing to her groin in an annoying fashion. She's half sexually frustrated and the other half just plain old frustrated and she's pretty sure you shouldn't be either of these things at an orgy.

She's got half a mind to just wank herself off and go home when her saving grace walks through the door in the form of Gwen Thomas. Lovely, sweet, innocent Gwen from her children's lit class who seems so out of place with the rest of them it's like watching a rainbow fish swim through a swamp of frogs. Not that frogs aren't nice, and the rest of the women in this room certainly aren't ugly, and maybe she's drunk because did she seriously just think of Gwen as a rainbow fish? They stare at each other hesitantly for a moment.

“I didn't know you were into book clubs,” Freya starts.

“My class got out late tonight,” says Gwen, as if it explains everything.

The silence is painfully awkward for all of five seconds before Gwen blurts, “want to make-out?”

“Oh thank god,” Freya responds, and just like that the tension is gone.

Gwen all but throws herself on the sofa and they scramble to get purchase on one another. As Gwen pulls her dress up over her head, Freya reflects that it's really a shame she wasted so many weeks with her stupid crush on Merlin when she could have focused all her attention on Gwen instead. Gwen with her lovely full breasts and her wicked tongue which is doing wonderful things to her mouth and promises absolutely fantastic things for her nether regions later.

She doesn't remember the exact moment they migrate to the floor, but really, it's not all that important. It's some time after Gwen has screamed her name and Freya's lips are wet and numb. There's someone holding her up from behind, their dark hair falling over her shoulders. There's a mouth attached to her right nipple, the tongue laving around it, pulling it into a peak.

Her left hand reaches out blindly and finds someone's ass to knead and grip. There's two people at her feet, taking turns pressing kisses to the inside of her thighs and plunging their tongues inside her. Her right hand is buried deep in Gwen's hair. As her second orgasm of the night builds, she lets her head fall back and reflects on how glad she is that 'book club' needs qualifying quotation marks.

* * *

**#47**

Arthur's phone lit up with a message from Merlin. What are you wearing?, it asked. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, Is that your pathetic attempt at sexting me? 

Just play along, Merlin wrote, Say something sexy. 

Sexy sweat pants and a sexy sweatshirt. Arthur was not in the mood. In fact he was sitting on his couch next to his roommate, Leon. A horrible action flick, that Leon loved, played on their TV. 

You mean no underwear ;) cheeky, was Merlin's response. 

Arthur sighed and his phone buzzed again. 

Guess what I'm wearing. 

Not pants, Arthur replied. 

You wouldn't be getting this text if I was wearing pants.  
I'm wearing that jock we bought together and I have to say it feels amazing on my cock. 

"Are you two sexting?" Leon asked. 

"No." Arthur replied too defensively. His face had turned bright red when he read the last text.  
Arthur's phone shook in his hand as the next text came in, he refused to read it. "He's sexting me," he told Leon. 

Another faint buzzing noise from the phone. 

"Are you going to get that?" Leon asked, amused. 

"I figure he'll get bored and leave me-" Another text, "-alone." 

Arthur's phone buzzed three more times. 

"Maybe I should get that," Merlin was stubborn,he wouldn't stop texting him, and an orgasm  
was an orgasm. Leon laughed as Arthur scurried into his room, closing the door before looking at the now six messages. 

God I'm throbbing  
I've been hard since I was at work  
Now I'm playing with my arse  
God it feels good  
I like to pretend it's you touching me  
Want pics? 

Arthur sat down on his bed in defeat and got the bottle of lube out of his bedside table. Before he could reply yes or no there was a picture of Merlin's dick stretching against the tight  
material of the jock strap. 

You like? ;) 

Arthur took a second out of struggling out of his pants (he couldn't seem to fast enough) to reply Yes. 

Want more? 

Please. 

A picture of a red dildo slightly starting to push itself into Merlin's ass appeared on Arthur's phone screen. 

Now show me you, Merlin wrote. 

Arthur took a pump of lube in his right hand and started stroking his dick. He leaned into the wall to get a good angle. The picture featured his hard cock in hand and his sweatpants  
around his ankles. 

When Arthur sent the picture he had already gotten another from Merlin of the dildo shoved fully into his ass. 

Thinking of u, it was captioned. 

How would you fuck me right now? the next text from Merlin said. 

On your hands and knees, Arthur replied. 

Like this? Merlin had attached a photo of himself with his ass in the air and face in a pillow, the base of the red dildo still visible in his ass. 

Exactly, Arthur was typing with his left hand while his right slowly explored his dick in all the ways he knew Merlin would. And i would be rough I would hold you down and fuck you untill you were moaning and a screaming 

And i would fucking moan and scream, Merlin replied. 

And I would leave hickeys all over your shoulders 

Please 

Then i would sit up and make you grind on my dick 

Like this? Merlin attached a twenty six second clip of himself, dildo firmly held on the wood floor of his bedroom by his left hand, fucking himself on the dildo. As he bobbed up and down he moaned and begged "Please Arthur, please let me cum." 

Arthur let a small "Fuck," escape his lips as he watched the video. He took another pump of lube and rubbed the lube all over his cock then did his best to replicate Merlin's gyrating with his hand. 

Arthur sent Merlin a video punctuated by groans and sighs. 

I would cum inside you then lay you down on the ground and keep fucking you while i touch ur cock untill u cum 

Thru the jock 

Yea lightly until u cant take it anymore and your screaming my name 

like this? a text came a minute later, attached was a fifty seven second clip of Merlin laying on his floor touching himself through the jock moaning, "Arthur please. Please stop teasing me. I- I," Merlin's begging dissolved into moans as his he touched himself. "More Arthur," he demanded quietly seconds before his back arched and he groaned. 

Arthur quietly pumped himself for only a few seconds before he came. 

Still recovering from his orgasm he got a text that said, Now come over in an hour so you can really fuck me ;)

* * *

**#48**

New message from Merlin:  
 _I'm taking tokes in the bath tub, come if you want, I'm naked and you have to bring chicken nuggets or else you can't come in_

Well, I dropped everything didn't I? The lunch tray I was queuing with, the study group I was supposed to be meeting.

When I reached his place, clutching a greasy bag, I found he’d left the door latched. The flat smelt of his bergamot bath soak and a heavy layer of the sickly-sweet skunk he’d treated himself to last night, in honour of finishing his exams.

He sprawled on the bed like a dream. Naked, as promised, still wet from the bath. Pink and pale against burgundy sheets. His eyes were closed and his fingers played curiously over his mouth. He inhaled deeply through his nose and turned, inky lashes barely lifting from his red-raw eyes.

"Food?" He whispered, voice rough with smoke, and his ruddy lips gaped invitingly. His already pudgy penis lazed against his thigh.

My heart thundering, I scrambled to kick off my shoes and get to the bed. I knelt beside him and pulled out the box, laying it on the folded bag and opening it like a treasure chest, an offering.

He moaned when I placed the first nugget against his lips and his teeth sank into the juicy flesh. His sleepy eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched.

With my free hand I grazed his ribs, and briefly allowed myself to pet his warm, damp crotch. He nudged into me and sucked in the rest of the chicken piece, throat working as he swallowed it down.

"You're going to give yourself indigestion." I told him softly, selecting the next piece.

"Oh god, don't care..." He snapped his jaws at where my hand hovered just out of reach. He may have been too weak to sit up but he managed to lift his head far enough off the pillow to snatch the chicken from me, mumbling contentedly as he flopped back down to chew.

Merlin obviously wasn't vegetarian, but he never ate much meat, a combination of laziness and poverty he claimed, except when he got really stoned, then he would become a voracious carnivore, devouring burgers, sausages, anything that sat still long enough, but nuggets were his favourite. I’d have preferred to do him a nice bit of steak, but he wasn't interested. 

To be honest I loved him like this though, writhing in ecstasy as I hand fed him each golden morsel, and him sucking on my fingers so as not to waste any of the flavour...

A nip to my wrist broke my reverie and reminded me I had a job to do and a hungry boyfriend to serve.

He chomped down two more and I broke away to whip off my clothes and, in a moment of inspiration, slipped a couple of nuggets in the front of my pants, they were still warm and felt rough and weird, but not unpleasant. When he realised I was no longer feeding him and the box had disappeared he began snuffling around like a blind puppy, he even whined softly, it shouldn't have been so cute.

He rolled over and sniffed his way up my thigh until he found the extra bulge in my pants. His tongue snaked out and prodded first at the knobbly chicken, then my rock hard dick and then settled flat against my balls sending shivers up my spine. He stretched his mouth wide, glancing cheekily up at me, and attempted to fit his teeth around both balls and one of the nuggets where they nestled together in the thin fabric.

"Omnomnomnomnom," he mumbled into my crotch, sucking what he could into his wet mouth. It tickled, and stung a bit, but fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things I've ever seen that man do. When he ripped my pants off and had gobbled down the slightly squished chicken nuggets, he licked my dick and smacked his lips.

"Mmmaaarthur, you should always carry chicken in your pants," he said, "So you'll always taste and smell this fucking good..."

It was gross of course, not to mention more than a little unnerving letting him take my delicates between his chops when he was in this mood. Worth it every time though. 

I couldn't help wondering how he’d react if I could manage to get some chicken up my bum next time. After my final exam perhaps.

* * *


	7. Group C (clean)

**#49**

Merlin buried his face deeper into the pillow, his breath panting softly against the crisp crimson linen. A few feet away, the sunbeams slipped through the open window, the golden glow washing the king’s bedchamber in morning light.

“Arthur,” Merlin pleaded, daring to quirk one eye open long enough to see the first rays of a spring dawn break over Camelot, awakening the realm.

Arthur’s lips nipped hot at his neck, teeth grazing against the tender flesh beneath Merlin’s ear. Merlin reached up with one hand to tug at Arthur’s hair, urging him closer, begging Arthur’s lips to meet his own. Eye to eye, lips barely moving against each other in the slow dance of morning, Merlin lost himself in Arthur’s touch.

Beneath the sheets, Arthur’s cock split Merlin’s arse cheeks in two, eased only by what makeshift lube they convinced Gaius they needed for silencing a squeaking hinge. Merlin let his legs fall open, widening the space to allow Arthur to thrust at his own rhythm while the world outside their window burst alive with birdsong, each creature beginning the new day.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, hot slick seeping from his untouched cock.

“I’m here,” Arthur said, grasping Merlin’s bare hip with a sword-calloused hand.

Merlin whimpered as he felt Arthur tug him closer, breaching his hole again with his cock, Merlin’s sweat-glazed back against the warmth of Arthur’s chest. Merlin fell apart, taking care to remember the burn that filled him, flooding him with life, pushing out any despair that he had come to know.

“I’ve got you,” Arthur breathed, his hand crossing from Merlin’s hip to his belly, before taking his cock, hard and needy, into his hand.

After a few strokes from Arthur’s fist, the streets of the lower village came alive. Before long, bread was set to rise. Children shouted in play. The green bounty of a spring harvest was gathered for the day.

Merlin shuddered with his release. His sticky come trickled cool onto the sheets while wet tears of gratitude slid from his eyes to the pillow.

Murmuring for Merlin to hush, Arthur swept the tears away with his thumbs, replacing his touch with tender kisses to Merlin’s eyelids. Merlin choked back a sob as Arthur wrapped him in his arms, keeping him safe and protected against the intrusion of thoughts that threatened to disrupt Merlin’s peace.

He had barely taken another breath, when the sound of the alarm jolted Merlin awake. He shifted onto his knees, the rough concrete scraping the scabs of dried blood that marred his skin.

With one hand, he drew the phone from his pocket, confused because he didn’t recognize it. He couldn’t remember robbing the drunk of the device the night before. Somewhere on the streets, the phone’s owner cursed at his empty pockets. Merlin coughed out a wad of spit, tinged with the sting of smoky alcohol.

He tapped at the phone, silencing the alarm so it didn’t attract attention. Being picked up for vagrancy was the last thing he needed. He got to his feet and leaned against the side of the concrete bridge. The gray stone had been weathered for too long without repair. The chips of crumbling mortar fell to the ancient riverbed below where once a stream had run. In its place lay a broken bottle, the carcass of a dead bird, and a white Styrofoam cup.

Merlin shook his head when the alarm disappeared from the screen and the unfamiliar letters scrolled out. He underlined each word of the text with a crippled finger. He remembered tapping out the message, but he knew not the address for which it was destined.

Merlin sunk to the ground, shirt riding up, his back scraping against the rough concrete of the bridge. He set the phone down between his knees where the weeds had pushed through the veins in the cracked pavement. For a moment, he contemplated them, wondering how they could grow where no light could reach them.

Perhaps they too were waiting for his king to return to a broken Avalon.

* * *

**#50**

Merlin (20:45): I changed my mind. I'll pretend to be your assistant, your PR guy, your shoe-shiner, your bodyguard. Anything. I just want to be with you.  
Merlin (20:46): Arthur, I'm sorry. I know this isn't easy for you. I know I need to be patient. I know you love me. I was an arse.

Arthur (22:16): You WERE an arse.

Merlin (22:17): I know. I know. I love you so much. Please forgive me.

Arthur (22:22): Maybe if you grovel. 

Merlin (22:25): You know I'd be on my knees in front of you in a heartbeat if I was there with you.   
Merlin (22:26): And you'd be naked.  
Merlin (22:26): Too soon?

Arthur (22:36): Don't start what you can't finish. I won't be back in the country for two weeks.

Merlin (22:37): Oh I can finish this. It's late. Surely you must have completed all your royal duties by now.  
Merlin (22:38): Are you alone?

Arthur (22:40): I'm not going to do this now.

Merlin (22:41): Send Lance and Gwen away. Give them the night off so at least someone can get laid tonight.

Arthur (22:45): Give me half an hour.

Merlin (22:46): No. I'm doing this now.  
Merlin (22:56): Arthur?  
Merlin (22:57): I'm horny.   
Merlin (22:57): And I'm on my knees in front of you. I'm taking your prick out. I'm wrapping my lips around it before you can do anything to stop me.

Arthur (22:59): Fuck. Fine, fine. They're gone.

Merlin (23:00): Are you hard? Because I'm licking around your prick right now to get it wet.   
Merlin (23:02): Are you touching yourself? Use some of that ridiculous lotion and get your cock really wet for me. Just like my mouth. Will you do that? I want to picture it. 

Arthur (23:03): Yes I'm hard. I've taken off my trousers. I'm on the bed.

Merlin (23:03): Pants too?

Arthur (23:04): Pants, too. And I have the 'ridiculous' lotion that I know you use when you stay over.

Merlin (23:05): I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation.   
Merlin (23:05): I'm putting as much of that perfect cock of yours in my mouth as I can fit. You're so big I'm nearly choking on it.   
Merlin (23:06): Hold it tight, because I'm sucking hard. Licking under the head when I come up for air. Right where you like it.   
Merlin (23:06): Can you picture it? Can you feel my hot, wet mouth on your cock?

Arthur (23:07): Keep going.

Merlin (23:08): You're so hard. Love the way you fill up my mouth. Love the way you taste.   
Merlin (23:09): I'm licking your balls now. Jerking you off with my hand. 

Arthur (23:10): I love it when you lick my balls.

Merlin (23:11): And when I lick down lower. Pushing my tongue against your taint. Licking over your hole.   
Merlin (23:11): Before putting my mouth back on your cock. 

Arthur (23:12): Tease.

Merlin (23:13): I'll rim you later. I just wanted a little taste. Your cock was getting lonely.

Arthur (23:13): It was.

Merlin (23:14): I'm taking it deep now. Sucking hard. Getting it so wet.  
Merlin (23:15): I love doing this for you. I love making you feel good. Your prick was made for my mouth.   
Merlin (23:17): Arthur?

Arthur (23:18): Hard to type with on hand.  
Arthur (23:18): *one

Merlin (23:19): I appreciate that you take the time to fix your typos even while masturbating. 

Arthur (23:19): Fuck off. I'm close. 

Merlin (23:20): Are you thinking about me between your legs right now? Pulling my hair. Pushing my head down to get deeper in my mouth. Hitting my throat with your big prick.  
Merlin (23:21): I can feel it throbbing against my tongue. I can feel your balls tightening in my hand.  
Merlin (23:21): I want you to come in my mouth. I want to feel you come down my throat.  
Merlin (23:22): Come for me, Arthur. I want you to come.

Arthur (23:23): Jesus.  
Arthur (23:25): Thank you for that, love.

Merlin (23:25): I wish I was there with you.

Arthur (23:26): You know once Morgana and Leon have the baby, the line will be officially continued with an heir, and there will be even less pressure on me to find a wife.

Merlin (23:27): You sure you're ready to come out?

Arthur (23:28): With you by my side, I am.

* * *

**#51**

“Wait,” he began softly, his voice thin, “I-I think we should stop.”

“Why?” she asked as she shifted in his lap, “You weren’t so hesitant to write about it.”

She lifted his work and let it fall beside her, taking his face in her hands and kissing him gently.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. No matter what you write,” she conceded softly, brushing his curly fringe away from his damp forehead. He was nervous, she knew.

“I… It’s not that I don’t, I’m-m just,” he tried to get out, eyes darting around anywhere but her own.

“Nervous?” she offered, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails.

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking down as he ran his hands up and her sides.

“Everyone’s nervous their first time. I was really nervous. We can do it just how you wrote,” she spoke softly into his cheek, her fingers trailing slowly down his chest and to his lap. She knew it started like this.

His breath stuttered when her fingers touched him and she looked up quickly.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered affirmatively. 

She unbuttoned and pulled the zipper of his jeans, exposing the front of his briefs. He shifted around as she pulled them away, taking a moment to read ahead a few lines as he leaned forward to fully remove them. She moved off his lap and nudged his legs apart, settling on her stomach and propping her head up with her hands. He looked more nervous than before, a bead of perspiration running down his temple, but she could see his penis stirring. She grinned.

“I’m, uh, sorry, I mean—” he stuttered endearingly but he cut off with a gasp as she kissed him over his boxers, delighting in the little wet spot already there. 

She pressed open mouth kisses along the shaft, letting one hand rest on his abdomen. 

“What’s next?” she asked with a wry smirk, knowing but wanting to hear.

“Um,” he continued, scrambling around for the stapled pages.

She continued smirking to herself; he knew what was next, too. She slowly pulled down his briefs, sitting up and pulling them to his ankles before settling back down.

“It says, um, you, uh—” 

“Blow you?” she suggested, keeping eye contact as she encircled his penis in her hand. He bit his lip.

“Well, I didn’t say it like—ah!”

His head made a dull thud against the wall as she sucked on the head gently, pressing little kisses to it. She continued to suck, stroking him up and down with her hand. He released pleasured sighs and gasps, his thumb rubbing her cheek. They soon became strained and she knew there was more to this section but she didn’t want him to come before they got to the good part. She released him, his penis erect and proud before her face.

“Ready?” she asked with a grin, glancing at the story but already knowing what was next. 

He nodded.

She stood up and removed her dress, giving him a chance to kick off his boxers and remove his shirt. He held her hand as she lowered herself into her knees, one on either side of his hips, his hands running over her thighs lovingly. She leaned sideways and grabbed her bag, pulling it over and rummaging around. He looked confused when she procured a tiny bottle of lubricant but she just shook her head, warming a drizzle between her hands before running them over his member.

“It’ll help,” she explained, not wishing to go into exact details at this moment. They hadn’t exactly done much foreplay. 

He bit his bottom lip again and she murmured an encouragement as she lowered herself slowly, steadying herself with a hand at his shoulder, the other guiding him gently. He breathed a gasp as she began to move and smiled when he glanced between her and their connected bodies, cheeks rosy.

“Here,” she began, urging him up and laying back, settling him between her legs, “just move.”

His thrusts were careful and he fumbled in rhythm a bit but she smiled nonetheless; it was his first time and she was more concerned that he enjoyed it. It didn’t take long for him to come and she hushed his apologies, passing a hand through his hair and giving him a firm kiss.

“Kudos-worthy?” she asked cheekily.

He laughed and curled beside her, pressing warm kisses to her cheeks and mouth.

“Comment-worthy. And definitely a reread.”

* * *

**#52**

It was around 5am and they'd been called to assist when at a party where a fight had broken out. A swordfight, specifically. It was that kind of night.

By the time he and Leon arrived, the combatants were being read their rights and having their injuries tended. The place reeked of cannabis, but as it was a private adult party, they gave the residents a general warning and left it at that.

Arthur let out of a breath as he walked back outside. He might actually make it home by 7:30 if they didn't have any more arrests tonight.

Then he looked up and saw a nude man in a tree.

"Sir?" He called up. He clicked on his torch and shone the light into the branches. The man opened his eyes, then squinted and mumbled something unintelligible.

He heard Leon, leading one of the arrests, chuckle. "I'll leave this one to you." Arthur ignored him.

"Sir, are you intoxicated? Can you get down?" He was about fifteen feet up, not terribly high but enough to crack a few bones if he fell. 

The man tried to roll over. Arthur made an aborted move to catch him, but the man stayed put, blinking and peering down at Arthur. It looked like the branches had somehow twined around him. Arthur shook his head. It was probably the light playing tricks.

The man had wide blue eyes, generous lips, and dark hair, on his head and chest and - Arthur forced his eyes away, attempting to keep a professional demeanor.

"Hullo," the man called down. "Is that you, Arthur?"

Arthur was speechless for a moment, then he cleared his throat.

"Er, yes. This is Officer Pendragon." He tried to remember if this was one of their "frequent fliers" or some other acquaintance, but he couldn't place him. He did seem vaguely familiar though.

"Thank fuck," the man said. "I've been waiting forever."

This made no sense and also served to annoy Arthur. Drunken idiots expecting police to save them from their own stupidity usually did that.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to come down out of there now."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm too stiff still."

Arthur guessed this was a euphemism for "too drunk." 

"I'll have the fire department to come and put up a ladder," Arthur said, starting to walk away. 

"Wait!" The man yelped. "Arthur, don't leave me again!"

He paused. The man was stretching slowly, as if his wiry arms and legs really were stiff. He managed to push himself up to a sitting position, his legs dangling. Arthur took a few steps back toward the tree.

"Be careful," Arthur said, then, "What's your name?" It was bothering him that he couldn't remember.

"Merlin." He was smiling at Arthur, totally unconcerned at being stark naked in front of a policeman. He had nothing to be ashamed of, though. His cock was rather lovely, even soft. 

"Do you want me to climb up?" It was a stupid thing to say, completely against policy and common sense.

"No, no, your trousers look far too tight for that sort of activity." Merlin's eyes were dancing.

"Get your arse down here then, idiot."

He kept the flashlight on Merlin as he climbed down. It wasn't strictly necessary - but Merlin did have a great arse as well.

Merlin was a bit breathless by the time he was standing in front of him. So was Arthur. That feeling that he _knew_ Merlin was even stronger.

"Hi," Merlin said shyly. He didn't really seem like he was drunk. And then Merlin leaned up and kissed him, not shyly at all.

"Um," Arthur said, pulling back, his hands curling into Merlin's shoulders. "That's - we can't do that."

"Why not?" Merlin looked put out. "I've waited several hundred years for this."

"Hundred years?" Arthur was bewildered, and a bit - okay, he was a bit enthralled by this man with leaves in his hair who called him by his first name and wasn't at all intimidated by the uniform - but that didn't mean that he could just unbuckle his belt…

"Whoa! What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Merlin said, kneeling and Arthur put a hand against the tree to steady himself as Merlin tugged down his boxers and licked the crown of Arthur's penis.

"Are you real?" Arthur asked as Merlin swallowed around him. He wasn't sure of Merlin's reply but it felt like magic.

* * *

**#53**

“I owe Olaf a favour. Could you convince Arthur to take his daughter Vivian out on a date?”

Uther stares at him before breaking out into laughter. Agravaine almost has a stroke.

“Oh, that’s just...” Uther _hiccups_ , and Agravaine twitches. Dear Lord. Uther Pendragon showing emotion. It’s the apocalypse; it’s here now. Agravaine is certain of it.

“So, is that a yes?” he asks, always stoic in the face of adversity. “Because then—“

“No.” Uther is shaking his head, still smiling. “No, Agravaine. I’m sorry.”

“But why—“

“You’ll see. Just keep your eyes open.” Uther laughs again, but this time it sounds a little desperate, strained. “Or keep them closed. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose; you’ll see anyway.”

He waves Agravaine away.

Agravaine leaves, confused.

\--

Monday morning, he gets his first hint. Arthur is chasing a dark-haired, slim man down the corridor.

“ _Mer_ lin!” he bellows, eyes on the boy, zero focus for anything else. “I told you to come back _instantly_ —“

“Gwen needed help!” the boy splutters. “Lance called—“

“I don’t care if you fancy yourself the redeemer of love-sick souls, you are to answer to me immediately—“

“You’re my boss, not my slave-driver, you prat!”

There’s some more bickering and Arthur putting the boy in a headlock that Agravaine watches worriedly, before Arthur seems to realise that his uncle is actually there. He straightens, flushing, lets the boy out of the headlock. 

“Uncle, this is Merlin, my PA,” he says calmly. The boy, Merlin, squints at Agravaine and mimics Arthur cheekily: “Mr de Bois, this is the prat, your nephew. My apologies for that.”

Before Agravaine can answer, Arthur calls Merlin a clotpole, Merlin stomps on his foot, Arthur threatens him with a slap, Merlin runs off—

and Arthur runs right after him.

Agravaine stares after them. Later, Morgana, clarifies things for him: “Yes, they’re always like that. It would actually be cute if Arthur wasn’t so far in the closet he’s in Narnia, you know?” 

\-- 

She’s _right_. Agravaine, former believer of Arthur’s heterosexuality, is now converted, having witnessed the ridiculous amount of the boys’ bickering, their constant flirting. The worst is, Arthur doesn’t even _realise_ he’s doing it:

\- “I don’t even know why I remember the day I met you.” / “It was the first time your prattish arse got its ego bruised for real. That’s quite a memorable occasion.” / “Shut up, _Mer_ lin.” / “Make me, _Ar_ thur.” / “You wish.” / “So what if I did?”

(A scowl is apparently a suitable reply. Agravaine rolls his eyes.)

\- “Face it, you liberal wimp. There’s not much money can’t buy.” / “Your modesty, it slays me.” / “You know you like it, _Mer_ lin.” / “Oh, there sure is a lot I like...” 

(Arthur is clueless; Merlin leaves disappointed. Agravaine shares a look with Uther that says: _not my nephew; your son_.)

\- “Why are you walking with a limp, Merlin?” / “Jealous?” –/ “Of you? Why would I possibly be jealous of you?” 

(Agravaine almost facepalms.)

\--

It goes on and on. Day in, day out. Arthur is so far in the closet he really is in Narnia. Agravaine almost feels sorry for Merlin, and Agravaine doesn’t _do_ feelings.

Well. He does _one_ feeling: aggravation. Three months and fourteen days into his employment at Dragon’s Pen, he walks into the office like a man on a mission. If they’re not going to get their shit together today, Uther will either find a resignation letter on his desk or dead people in the corridor.

Thus, it is with impossible relief that he watches the following scene from around a corner:

Arthur crowding Merlin against a wall, leaning in, hands on either side of Merlin’s head. “You won’t even laugh at my jokes anymore,” he’s complaining. 

Merlin remains impassive.

“I haven’t seen you smile these past three days,” Arthur continues. Low, worried. 

At that, Merlin stares at Arthur. After a moment he says, disbelieving, “You—you were counting days?”

Agravaine wants to yell through the entire building that Arthur is so fucking gay for Merlin that rainbows pale in comparison, but Merlin does the job for him. 

When Arthur nods, Merlin pulls him into a hungry kiss, easy as that. Agravaine thinks, _fucking finally_ , and Arthur, not so stupid after all, drags Merlin into a supply closet conveniently located to their left.

_Arthur is in a closet, yes, but not in Narnia anymore. Probably in Merlin, soon_ , Agravaine tells himself stupidly before deciding that shooting himself really sounds like a good idea.

* * *

**#54**

Girl’s night in only started an hour ago, but Elena’s already on her third glass of wine and has moved on to how bad her last boyfriend was at going down on her. “He would just stick his tongue up there and wiggle it around a little bit. So not sexy.”

Mithian thinks she can actually feel her face burning. She’s not usually comfortable talking about sex, but tipsy Elena has even less qualms about oversharing than sober Elena. “I’ve never been too fond of it.”

She’s pretty sure the amount of shock and betrayal in Elena’s face is unwarranted. “Wait, seriously?”

“It doesn’t do anything for me,” she says, and takes a hasty gulp of wine if only to give herself something to do. “It’s wet and messy and there’s not enough friction.”

The look Elena gives her is somewhere between devious and smug. She drains the rest of her glass in one go before she gets off the couch and drops to her knees in front of Mithian.

“What are you doing?” Her voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched.

Elena just grins as she manoeuvres Mithian to get her trousers off. “Blurring the lines between friendship and lesbianism.”

Before Mithian can formulate a response to that, her plain white panties have joined her trousers. Sitting bare-assed on Elena’s raggedy couch hadn’t been in her plans for tonight, but she can’t say she isn’t intrigued when Elena grabs her hips. She pulls Mithian to the edge of the couch and nudges her thighs apart. Mithian’s not sure whether it’s the anticipation or the dark gleam to Elena’s eyes, but she can feel herself getting wet.

She squirms a bit when Elena dips her head to press a wet kiss to her inner thigh, and she can feel Elena’s responding chuckle _everywhere_.

Mithian opens her mouth, fully intending to say something (she’s not sure whether it’s no, stop, this is too weird or get the fuck on with it already) but all words leave her when Elena uses one hand to spread her and just _goes_ for it, scraping the flat of her tongue from top to bottom, and oh, okay. It’s still wet and squirmy and a little embarrassing, but yeah, Mithian’s definitely intrigued.

The second Elena’s tongue finds her clit, Mithian mentally revises ‘intrigued’ to ‘turned on beyond belief.’ She can’t discern a pattern, and it’s as maddening as it is hot, trying to anticipate Elena’s moves.

Elena pulls back after a minute and licks her lips. Her face is flushed and her chin and mouth are wet and shiny and Mithian is weirdly into it. “Stop focusing on a pattern and just go with it.” And she goes right back in it.

It takes a minute or two, but Mithian eventually stops thinking and just feels, rolling her hips into the movement. She’s usually quiet during sex, too mortified at hearing herself moan, but she figures part of ‘just going with it’ is letting her mouth do whatever it wants, too, and lets the whine rip itself from her throat.

The vibrations from Elena’s answering groan just makes it all the better.

Her leg is twitching and warmth is licking up her spine by the time Elena shifts and slides two fingers into her. She cups her palm and pulls Mithian further into her mouth, tongue still furiously working her clit, and Mithian is slowly losing her mind. She’s all but riding Elena’s hand, head thrown back, lungs gasping for air as her head swims with how good it all feels -- everything from the tiny shockwaves building in her feet to the saliva dripping down her thighs to the drag of her cotton tee against her nipples has her right on the edge.

And then Elena crooks her fingers up, and Mithian comes apart, shaking and sweating and desperately trying to sound out the syllables of Elena’s name.

She’s still in that heady, post-orgasm daze by the time Elena’s face comes back into view, mouth red and slick and wearing the most obnoxious grin. Mithian’s still too blissed out to get too affronted.

“Still do nothing for you?” Elena asks. Smug looks surprisingly good on her.

“Consider my opinion changed.”

* * *

**#55**

Their relationsh- _arrangement_ was, according to Arthur, simple enough for an _un_ trained monkey to understand. _’Surely Merlin, you can wrap your head around this as well as you wrap your hand around my dick,_ being his exact words, which had resulted in round two with Merlin holding Arthur down as he fucked in, in, in to that glorious body.

It was sex. 

Phenomenal sex, but nothing more. Arthur had made that clear when they’d woken – horrified- after their first drunken fumble. No talking, no feelings, no cooking each other breakfast. 

Which was why Merlin couldn't be seeing what he was; the view was admittedly delicious with the strings of an apron incongruously swaying over Arthur’s bare ass as he vigorously prodded at what faintly resembled scrambled eggs, though Merlin had never managed, in his culinary disasters, to make them _grey_.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Merlin blurted, nonplussed. On the rare occasions they woke up together it was generally indicative of being too drunk to move or too horny to pass up a sure thing like waking to a blow job, not brunch. If Arthur was going to mess with the rules, he should warn Merlin; he needed time to prepare himself for things like Arthur cooking, practically naked, sort out his increasingly muddled feelings; about the arrangement; about Arthur; about what he wanted; about that warm fluttering he got whenever he was near Arthur.

“Sit,” Arthur motioned to the rickety table Merlin had proudly rescued from a skip, and dazedly Merlin sat, distracted by the scratch marks he'd scored across Arthur's golden skin; like wings they spanned his shoulders and arced down his back to that beautiful ass, red crescent-shaped marks betraying Merlin’s grip of hours before when he’d guided Arthur's hips as the blond had ridden him with a desperate fury.

He was pulled from his daydream by a plate clattering in front of him, grey eggs atop toast, Arthur turning to the sink dropping the spatula with a splat.

"I know your lease is up soon,” he said, reaching to tap his temple, “so I was brainstorming-"

"Pretty sure storms can't exist in a vacuum," Merlin scoffed reflexively in his bafflement, poking experimentally at his breakfast with a finger as Arthur sat with his own.

" _So,_ ” Arthur continued, ignoring him, “it's stupid that to keep taking cabs and travelling back and forth to each other’s places. We should move in together. It’d be more…” Arthur whirled his fork in the air, “convenient.” He gestured between them, egg plopping onto the table top, “For both of us.”

“For the, uh,-?” Merlin halted, unsure.

“Sex. Yes.”

“You don’t think that’s a tad extreme? Moving in just for sex?”

“Isn’t that what couples do?”

_‘Couple?’_ "And when one of us meets someone?" ‘ _Not that I’m looking_ ’Merlin abandoned any pretence of eating and focused on playing along until something made sense.

"When did that last happen? Honestly?" Arthur asked, shovelling a forkful of egg into his mouth before lurching to the sink to spit, wiping at his mouth furiously.

"With seductive technique like yours, it's no surprise you can't get a date."

"Maybe I don't want them!" Arthur grit out, turning to Merlin, his face a mask of tension and, to Merlin’s surprise, _fear_. "Maybe I don't want anyone else."

"But you hate me," Merlin bleated, too confused to know what to do. "That's what you said when we - that it was good because we hate each other."

"That was then."

"What changed?"

"Me."

Arthur's whisper was barely audible.

“I’d like,” Arthur swallowed hard, fingers gripping onto the sink to counteract his suddenly weak legs, “for us to…ah…be, uh, more. Be not, apart-” Merlin’s never heard Arthur so unsure, or look so small as he confessed…what Merlin has known of himself for a while.

Arthur jumps like a startled stoat at the scrape of Merlin’s chair, closing his eyes and turning his face away as he braced for the fist he’s sure is coming.

Gentle fingers caress his cheek instead, soft lips pressing to his jaw, again and again, far more powerful than any blow.

Later, when Merlin swept aside the mess of their breakfast and pushed Arthur down onto the table, as he flipped up that stupid apron to curl his hand around Arthur's cock and slide two fingers into his hole still faintly slick from the night before, as he thrust his tongue between swollen lips, Merlin can’t resist having the last word, just audible over the protesting squeaks of the table.

"Clotpole."

* * *

**#56**

Arthur’s cloak hung heavy and ill-fitting on Merlin’s shoulders. It was his winter one, designed so he might never feel a chill, and Merlin shook under it like he never meant to stop. His teeth chattered as he said, “Ar-Arthur.”

Arthur ignored him, a flurry of motion darting in and out of Merlin’s periphery. Dry kindling piled higher and higher in front of him with each circuit Arthur made.

“Arthur.”

“Stay _put_.”

Merlin clutched at the cloak draped over his chest with fingers that felt brittle. “Arthur.”

Arthur placed a staying hand on his shoulder, pressing down. “ _Don’t_ — _move_.”

That wasn’t much of an issue. Merlin had never felt less like moving in his life.

Arthur set himself on the log across from him and tasked himself with building the fire. He waited till it had gone from a spark to a blaze to ask tersely, “Are you warm enough, Merlin?”

Merlin shivered, sniffed, sneezed and nodded. “Yes, sire,” he said miserably. He smiled a wobbly smile, remembering Arthur pulling him out of the frozen lake, his angry silence as he sought to get him warm, the selfless way he’d given up his cloak.

“Good.” Arthur rubbed hands up and down his own arms. “Though only a prat would have fallen in to begin with.”

This _was_ Arthur however, it had probably been some kind of temporary insanity.

+

“If the cook is being reckless then it should be dealt with.” Arthur’s mouth pursed and he squeezed measured drops of Gaius’ poultice over the burns on Merlin’s hands.

“It was my fault,” Merlin insisted, hissing. He’d been caught up in following Agravaine and hadn’t been watching what he was doing.

Arthur dropped his hands with a scoff. “Somehow I find myself unsurprised, dolt.”

Merlin decided that a person could get a serious kink in their neck trying to decide if Arthur was actually concerned or simply looking for something to shout about.

+

“Leon should use more care,” Arthur warned, eyes flashing fire as he peeled the padding and tunic from Merlin’s torso, revealing a smattering of dark, painful bruises.

“I said I’d help him train,” Merlin said with a wince as Arthur carefully prod at his shoulder. “Having him go easy isn’t much help.”

Arthur stared at him like he’d lost what little brains he had. “You _offered_ to be bruised for hours on end, knowing you were no match for Sir Leon?” He scoffed, leaving Merlin to tend to his aches himself but not before reminding, “You are a fool.”

+

Merlin approached the Druid girl cautiously. Her eyes shone gold in the gloom of the stables and the hay bale above him exploded. She made a dash for it in the confusion while the horse in the next stall broke free and rushed him.

Merlin threw himself aside, using his own magic to drop a beam and seal off his path so the horse would be forced to change direction.

He was pulled to his feet and shaken barely a moment later. “Merlin.”

Arthur’s eyes were remarkably wide and, though Merlin felt rather shaken himself, he assured quickly, “It’s nothing, the horse spooked.”

Arthur’s expression closed, face tightening. “If you can’t tack my horse without being trampled to death then perhaps you should stick to tasks that are more suited to your limited skill-set.” He spun Merlin around, directed him towards a bench. “Like sitting. Over there. Silently. Prat.”

+

The arrow hit an inch away from Merlin’s left ear. 

Arthur wriggled out from beneath him. “Merlin,” he panted, breathless. To Merlin’s surprise, instead of pulling away he wrapped arms around him and held tight. “ _Idiot_.” 

“I’m fine. Arthur, I’m fine.”

Arthur scoffed, voice wavering. “You injure yourself doing the simplest of tasks, do you think I actually _want_ you throwing yourself in harm’s way?”

“Forgive me, sire, but your life is worth more than a servant’s.”

“Not more than _yours_ ,” Arthur retorted fiercely. He calmed himself, said more evenly, more genuinely, “Not—Not to me.”

“Oh.” Merlin swallowed, realisation dawning. His lips quirked slightly and he said, “So ‘prat’ means—”

“Prat,” Arthur finished for him. He smirked, adding, “You are _just_ a servant. Training another would be tiresome and I would like—” 

Merlin kissed him.

Arthur’s eyes went round, dazed. He hissed, “ _Merlin_.”

Merlin’s nimble fingers found the ties of his breeches, palm skating down the confined curve of his cock. “I think you’re a prat too, sire,” he said, leaning in again.

* * *

**#57**

Her slave was waiting when she got to her rooms. She saw the red rope draped over her door handle, and felt warm anticipation. It had been too long since he'd been free to service her, instead of grinding herbs for Gaius. His work here was much more enjoyable for all, and it did wonders for her sleep, which was more than she could say for Gaius.

The door creaked as she walked in, and she closed it quickly when she saw her boy at the table.

"Really," she said. "If Arthur were to come for a visit, what would he say to see you like this?"

He looked at his hands in his lap.

"In my rooms without a stitch? Did you want to be caught?"

"No."

"Then tell me, why are you naked like a whore at my breakfast table?"

"The door was locked," he said.

"Locked with magic?" Morgana asked.

"Yes, milady," he replied.

"Then that's even less safe," she snapped. "What would happen to me if my slave were caught?"

"I won't do it again," he said.

"Yes you will."

He didn't contradict her, only stood to help her undress. Layers of linen and wool came off, carrying propriety and manners with them to hang over her privacy screen. Right now was about dominance, so she took.

"Kneel, arms behind your back."

He knelt, so obedient here. He was a good slave for her, though Arthur complained constantly. She tied his wrists back, and pushed him to his knees before settling on her bed.

Her eyes flashed red- the color of her magic, and fury, and the color of his cock where it hung between his legs- and a heavy collar settled around his neck.

"Feels nice, doesn't it? To kneel for me?" Morgana crooned. Her slave only whined.

"Here, come here," she said, and watched as he shuffled on his knees towards her. "Such a good boy. You do that so well."

"You didn't forget the wine, did you?"

"No, milady."

"Good. A lady should not have to fetch her own drinks like a horse to the trough."

"Yes, Mistress," he said.

"Bring them here."

When his eyes flashed golden, she yanked his head back by the hair. "Not like that. If you are my slave, you use no magic. Now bring them here."

Her slave's eyes went down again, and he went to the table. It was too large to carry in his mouth, so he got to his feet and carried it behind him, bound hands around the belly of the ewer. He gave it to her, before retrieving the goblet.

“Enough,” Morgana said. “Back to your knees.”

She poured herself some and sipped, more for show than for thirst, then offered it to him. He tipped up his head and drank, but some escaped his mouth to fall to his chin. She climbed off the bed to catch those drops on her tongue.

“You taste lovely,” she said, then went to mouth at the trails up to his mouth, to lick along his lips and bite until he opened to her. When his chest heaved against her breasts, she got back onto the bedspread.

Merlin didn't move from where he knelt

"Such a beautiful mouth," she said, and parted her legs. "Please me."

He leaned in, and she pulled his hair to get him closer, until she felt his lips against her clitoris. With magic she loosened the ties from his arms, and his hands came up to her thighs.

Merlin was always so good at this, knew without her orders when to use one finger, or three, and she wondered if it was her magic or his, but it hardly mattered when the press of his tongue sent waves of pleasure over her. She tightened her fingers in his hair, knowing it pulled, knowing it hurt, but also knowing that her slave wouldn't protest.

Kinky bastard probably loved it. He always had.

She felt hotter, hotter, and yanked his face against her pussy, clamped her legs around his ears and nearly screamed as it broke over her. Through the rush in her ears she thought something might have smashed, but as her body finally went shaking-soft it was impossible to care.

Hands spread her legs apart, and with a gentle kiss against her- _too much, no, again_ \- Merlin pulled himself back.

"Good boy," Morgana murmured, and felt him rub his face against her outstretched fingers.

* * *

**#58**

“Morgana! Morgana, that one’s mine!”

Merlin didn’t give the exclamation much thought at first, not when a thousand other things were being exclaimed across the room as he walked in. But then he realised he was being pointed at and had a sort of _‘wait, what?!_ mini heart attack.

He stood frozen in place as the the blond bloke who’d singled him out got up from the sofa, and by the time said blond was making his way through the crowd, Merlin had kickstarted his brain back into working order again. He turned on his heel and went to hide in the loo, just until the whole thing blew over.

Nope, not going to be some footballer’s one night stand. No matter how gorgeous.

The trouble with hiding out in the loo was that everyone needed to use it and Merlin could only take knocking accompanied with death threats for so long. After about ten minutes passed, he sighed and peeked his head out, just before he was brutally shoved out of the way so some hulking beast of a man could barrel in.

“Hey.”

Merlin cringed. He’d only heard the voice once and yet he knew exactly who it belonged to. He turned around slowly before meeting the eyes of the blond he’d been avoiding.

And holy shit, what a pair of eyes they were up close.

 _No matter how gorgeous_ , Merlin told himself again. He’d had enough trouble with footballers.

“Uh, hi, listen—”

“You know, I have a really big cock.”

Merlin took a step back, partially because he was likely to get drunk just from inhaling the bloke’s breath, and partially because he just _needed to take a step back holy fucking shit_.

“That’s, er, good for you, but you see I’m not really into that so—”

“Hi, I’m Morgana.”

The dark-haired beauty seemed to appear from nowhere and Merlin nearly snapped his neck from turning to her.

“Hello?”

The blond guy shouldered her out of the way, glaring daggers at her. “Didn’t you hear me say he’s mine?”

“I’m not anyone’s!” Merlin yelled. “Look, can I just please—”

“What’s your name?” Morgana asked, standing on tip toes over the man’s shoulder.

Merlin made to slide left along the wall, slipping through a gap between two other people, but as soon as he moved, Morgana stepped from behind the blond right in front of him.

He was cornered.

“Um, Merlin. Now can I—”

“You say you’re not into cock, Merlin? How convenient,” she said, raising a brow at the bloke.

“Are you kidding me, of course he is!” said bloke countered.

“Uh…”

“Watch.”

Before Merlin could move to stop it, Morgana’s lips were against his, her hands clawed around his face to keep him there. He grabbed her wrists and tried to make some kind of protesting noise with his throat but apparently it was mistake for a moan. She tilted her head more and slotted their mouths together.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed when she pulled away. “You can’t just kiss someone like—”

“See, I told you. Now _you_ watch.”

And then the bloody _bloke_ ’s lips were on Merlin’s, but instead of his face, it was Merlin’s hips he grabbed, curling strong fingers around his waist and pulling him closer. Merlin meant for the bend of his back to be a move _away_ from the body pressed against him, but it ended up pushing their groins together and okay maybe the man hadn’t been exaggerating about his cock. The moan that erupted from Merlin’s throat then wasn’t entirely in protest.

Merlin blinked a few times after they separated. It hadn’t been the best kiss of his life, and had tasted strongly of alcohol, but it had also been fucking brilliant.

“Wow,” he exhaled. The man was still holding onto him, grinning in a way that was both victorious and charming, and should probably be illegal. Merlin spared one moment to think of his ‘no shagging footballers’ rule, but decided to throw caution to the wind when a flash of tongue made the pouty red lips glisten.

“I’m Arthur.”

“I’m…” Oh, right, he’d already told them his name. Merlin looked to Morgana again, who was currently crossing her arms and scowling. “I’m his, sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile.

Morgana huffed and stormed away, not that Merlin cared much. He turned back to Arthur, suddenly feeling like _he’d_ won a prize.

“So about this big cock of yours.”

* * *

**#59**

Stumbling out of the club, Merlin glances over his shoulder and gives the stone-faced bouncer escorting them a wide, sloppy grin.

“Thanks for seeing us out, think we got it from here!”

Arthur giggles and Merlin knows for certain he’s drunk. Arthur Pendragon does _not_ giggle, thank you very much.

There’s already a queue for taxis and it looks like they’ll be waiting a while before they get their turn. Frustrated, Merlin whines deep in his throat.

“Fuck Arthur, I can’t wait that long! I _need it_.” 

Arthur’s already teased him past endurance out on the dance floor. In fact, he’d teased him past the endurance of the club staff. After one warning to keep the groping to a PG level, they’d been thrown out of the club when Arthur had blatantly unbuttoned Merlin’s jeans and reached inside to palm his straining cock.

Out on the pavement, Arthur plasters himself against Merlin’s body, and takes his mouth in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth and soft, lush lips. _Fuck_ , Merlin loves Arthur’s mouth.

“Please, Arthur,” he pants, “I _can’t_ wait.”

As Merlin begs, a predatory smirk tugs up one corner of Arthur’s lips. He clamps a hand around Merlin’s wrist, tugging him back toward the club. Bypassing the door, he continues down the street another few meters before pulling Merlin into the shadow of a narrow alleyway.

Shoving Merlin up against the bricks, Arthur takes his mouth again. Losing himself in the kiss, Merlin fills his hands with Arthur’s arse, squeezing and kneading the firm muscles. Arthur goes for Merlin’s jeans again, twisting open the button and forcing the zipper wide as he slides his hand inside.

Merlin groans as Arthur’s fingers close around his needy flesh and begin to stroke. His knees go weak and he shifts his hands to Arthur’s back, clinging to stay upright. His head is swimming and his cock is throbbing and leaking, wetting Arthur’s grip, easing the rough strokes.

“You want me to fuck you, you filthy bitch? That what you want?” Arthur growls in Merlin’s ear. “You need my fat cock up that greedy little whore’s hole, don’t you?”

_Fuuuuck!_ Arthur knows exactly what to say to make Merlin lose control, to make him beg.

“Yeesss! Please, I need it. Now. Need it, now. Arthur please!”

“You don’t care who sees, do you? Such a desperate little slut. You’d have let me fuck you right on that dance floor, wouldn’t you? Everyone watching you beg, watching you get it hard. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, you shameless whore?”

Reduced to whimpers, all Merlin can do is nod frantically in agreement, praying Arthur is too far gone to tease him for long.

His prayer is answered when Arthur spins him around to face the wall and shoves him flat. Merlin bites his lip to stifle a cry. _This_ , he loves this. Loves when Arthur gets rough.

Two spit-covered fingers and a quick scissoring stretch are all the preparation he gets before the wide, blunt head of Arthur’s cock breaches him. Merlin hisses at the burning pain, bites his lip and shoves his arse back, taking Arthur to the root in one rough slide. Arching away from the wall, he throws his head back as Arthur latches on to his neck, biting down hard as Merlin shudders against him.

Arthur pauses there, giving Merlin time to adjust to the abrupt penetration, but that isn’t what Merlin wants. He’s craving the sensitizing pain that makes everything so much better in the end. Bucking his hips, he groans Arthur’s name pleadingly. Obliging Merlin’s wordless demand, Arthur starts to fuck. Hard. He’s got a hand on Merlin’s hip and another anchored in Merlin’s hair and he yanks Merlin back as he thrusts forward.

It’s hard and fast and far noisier than it should be considering where they are, but it’s the best sex they’ve had in weeks and Arthur is right, Merlin is shameless enough not to care if anyone sees.

Finishing Merlin off with a few twisting strokes, Arthur empties his balls with a strangled howl, and leans against Merlin for a moment, recovering. Cum trickling from his abused hole, Merlin pulls his jeans back up while Arthur buttons his own.

They leave the alley, slightly more sober than when they entered it. The taxi queue has dwindled to a single couple, and they are on their way home in minutes. Arthur falls asleep with his head in Merlin’s lap, and Merlin leans back in the seat, supremely content with his world.

* * *

**#60**

Wind rushed across the bow of the HMAS _Kilgharrah_ , catching in sharp eddies against the railings up top, then plummeting down over the balconies dotting the sides, before spilling off the rudder into the clouds below.

Gwen and Merlin shared one of the balconies, feet dangling through the railing, buffeted by random gusts. A few curls escaped Gwen's hairpins and danced around her face. To Merlin she looked like pure, distilled mischief - a twinkle in her eyes, a soft, secret curl to her mouth. 

The ever-present thrum of the airship's engines drowned out their murmured plans.

~~~~

'Join the Royal Airship Corps', the wireless had told Merlin. 'You'll serve Camelot and learn a valuable trade.'

Of course, they hadn't mentioned how _bored_ he'd be, or how easy it was to get into trouble on a ship full of surplus parts. Or how frustratingly fit the whole Corps was.

"Then Gwaine said 'thanks mate' and passed out drunk, strapped into my hammock with me and unconscious all night. That's the second fellow, Gwen! The _second_!" Merlin took his frustration out on a stiff bolt, yanking it hard enough to send it flying.

"Oh, I know," Gwen replied, snatching the bolt out of the air and dropping it into her belt-pouch. "You warned me about Lancelot, but still I thought he might be up for more than a bit of post-rescue snogging."

"A ship full of gorgeous people, and no one's getting any because they're all hot for each other," Merlin bemoaned.

"Ridiculous," Gwen agreed. "Pass me those pliers, please."

Merlin did, then paused. "Are you sure no one will miss these gears?"

~~~~

Merlin returned late from his shift, having stopped by the showers long enough to wash off the worst of the grease. The engine's hum kept him from hearing anything until he opened the door to their tiny bunkroom. Then, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed, he quickly shut it behind him and slid the lock home.

"So," he tried, voice cracking. He swallowed, cleared his throat. "Got it working, yeah?"

"Yeah," Gwen breathed. Gasped, really. Her half-lidded eyes slipped shut on a whole body shudder, and Merlin shivered in sympathy. Or envy.

Her hammock was swaying, bolts creaking with each movement. The sound was almost drowned out by the soft whir of the machine bolted to the floor, its gears rotating at a firm pace, one arm of it reaching up between her thighs. Wet, obscene sounds drifted from there, punctuated by Gwen's soft sighs.

Merlin whined in his throat.

"Dun' worry," Gwen slurred, her neck arching. "'lmost there-"

Merlin shucked his trousers so fast he almost tripped over them.

~~~~

He'd been in the Royal Air Corps long enough to know that it was impossible to keep secrets on any ship. Still, he was slightly surprised to walk into his bunkroom two days later to find Elena on her back on their cleared workbench, trousers round her ankles and breasts popped out of her shirt, bouncing as she fondled them.

"I'll just... lock this then?" Merlin gestured at the door.

Elena gave a complicated shrug, never losing stride. "If you like."

Merlin decided that surprise didn't equal disappointment. Elena made amazing noises when she came.

~~~~

"Couldn't get you into my hammock before-" Merlin half-complained as Gwaine moaned, shifting and trying to rub off against Merlin's hip. Behind him, the machine whirred cheerfully.

"Faster," Gwaine hissed. "Merlin, c'mon-"

Merlin reached down with one toe and turned up the speed.

~~~~

It turned out, Lancelot's favorite position was straddling the bench, tipped forward with his face in Gwen's cleavage, apologizing while the machine pressed forward agonizingly slow until it was in as deep as it could go, then pulled back with a slight twist.

Merlin didn't ask how Gwen had figured this out.

~~~~

"Are you mad?" Elyan asked when Merlin offered. "My sister's used that thing. Now I'll have to clear that image out of my-"

Elyan looked conflicted enough that Merlin blew him in the pantry. He had a thing for principled men.

~~~~

Lieutenant Pendragon - Morgana, not Arthur - had a laugh like silver bells when she was going over the top, in a fight or during sex.

"You're next," she panted as she came down, tracing up Gwen's thigh with one regulation-defying fingernail.

Merlin whined, and Morgana shot him a look that was mostly teeth. "Don't worry, sailor. Good things come to those who wait."

Above her head, Gwen gave him a twinkling, mischevious smile, like she already knew the shape of their next plan.

* * *

**#61**

"No, Merlin, no." Mithian sloshed her wine over the edge of her glass as she tried to waggle the wrong finger at Merlin. "Tinder is not "just Grindr for straight people.'"

"How is it not Grindr for straight people?" Merlin snatched her phone off the coffee table and waved it in the air like it proved his point. Which it did, or would if Merlin knew Mithian's passcode. 

"Tinder is a proper dating app." She lunged to get her phone back. She missed. "Grindr is just a meat market."

"Oh, like anyone on Tinder is looking for a long-term relationship. You're like the queen of the casual hook-up."

"And you're the queen of commitment," she shot back. "You're longing for someone to follow around all day and clean up after."

"Not _all_ day," Merlin protested. He planned to spend a good portion in bed, getting quite well serviced himself.

Mithian grabbed her phone back. She scooted closer to him on the sofa to show him the screen. "See, you get a bunch of pictures of guys who are in your area, and you pick the ones you find attractive."

"Right, right, I see." Merlin nodded and widened his eyes attentively. "Guys you find physically attractive who are close enough to meet up with you. Very different."

She shot him a look. "So you pick a guy you like and—Merlin, are you listening?"

Merlin looked up guiltily from his own phone, where he was scrolling through Grindr. "Erm, yes, of course?"

"All right, so you find a hot guy—ooh, look at this one." She tilted the phone towards Merlin. "Arthur P from right here in Kensington. Blond and buff, just like I like them."

"Me, too." Merlin leaned over to look. "Ooh, he is right fit, isn't he?"

"Go find your own." Mithian swatted him playfully. "Right, so I click the heart...."

With Arthur P lost to a presumption of heterosexuality, Merlin lost interest and opened Grindr.

"...and if he likes my photo, he'll click my heart."

A photo appeared in the top row of the screen—blond, fit, and familiar. Merlin raised his eyebrows and clicked on it. _Arthur P is .3 km from you_. A grin slowly spread over Merlin's face.

"Oh, he's online! He clicked me back! I'm in, Merlin, I can feel it. Now look, I can open up a chat connection with him and see if we have anything in common."

Being fairly certain that he and Arthur P already had things in common, Merlin also opened up a chat. He had a response in seconds that made him bite back a laugh. He responded in kind.

"Huh. His answers are getting slower. But I think he's into me."

Merlin was half hard in his pants, and much more interested in getting Arthur P into him. Time to seal the deal.

"Right, I just caught him at a bad time. He said he had to go. But I'll have a date by tomorrow, I promise you, Merlin."

"Sure, Mizza," Merlin said agreeably. "But tonight you're going to have to find somewhere else to be."

"What?" Mithian squawked. "I've had most of a bottle already. I was counting on sleeping on your sofa."

"Which would be fine, except that Arthur P is going to be here in fifteen minutes." Merlin grinned and held up his phone. Mithian gaped at Arthur P's (very shirtless) Grindr profile in surprise. "And about twenty minutes after that, he should be pounding me into this sofa. Because I can do casual hook-ups, too, you know."

***

Luckily, Arthur showed up a few minutes late, because it took almost a half hour to get Mithian to stop laughing. When Merlin answered the doorbell, the fit blond man from the pictures was leaning against the wall outside, hip cocked and lips pouted in an exaggerated come-hither posture.

Merlin burst out laughing. Arthur P's face lit up, eyes crinkling from his wide, joyful smile. It actually took more than an hour after that to get Arthur inside him. They had the wine to finish, and dozens of other things to laugh about first. 

But finally Merlin was on his back with his body giving way around Arthur's latex-clad cock. He arched up with a helpless moan of pleasure. Fuck, he thought, as Arthur kissed the moan from his lips. This wasn't going to be casual at all. 

At least he'd still proved his original point--despite himself.

***

And he forced Mithian to admit it in her best man's speech at the wedding.

* * *

**#62**

When they returned from Camelot, the court physician and court sorcerer looked her over, muttering wisely to each other about how she was so fortunate to be free of her curse, and Elena clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. 

They never thought anything was wrong with her before, the frauds.

She bit back the angry words with no difficulty; smiled, gracious and cool, and excused herself to the stables without tripping over her feet.

She was mistress of herself now, and the worst thing was how much it felt like a lie. This wasn't her. She didn't know herself, and all her happiest memories were flat and distant - she couldn't remember the greedy satisfaction at the slippery feel and taste of a frog kicking down her throat, the blithe way she had fumbled her fork and knife and knocked over her wineglass without a thought. She'd rather stay helpless and not know how all the court ladies whispered about her behind their hands.

This one thing remained true - the warm breath of Frog snuffling at her hands for apples, Frog's hard, smooth muscles moving beneath her as she rode out into the woods away from everything.

"Help, please," a desperate voice cracked, breaking into her reverie. 

Elena reined Frog in, suddenly very aware she was alone and far from the castle. "Who is it?" she asked, tense and ready to kick Frog back into a run.

A ragged beggar woman stumbled out from the underbrush, looking ready to collapse. Elena looked closer, and caught her breath at the woman's stark beauty, striking even with her tangled black hair and torn dress. Surely this was no beggar, not with those proud features, and the fine material that clung near immodestly to her full curves.

"What happened to you, miss?" Elena asked, swinging down to catch the woman before she fell.

The woman clutched at her arms with disarming strength, and Elena flinched from the bright triumph in her pale eyes. "What do you want?" But then came a terrible noise - long, high, filled with pain. The woman's grip slackened as fear and anger flashed over her face. "Aithusa," she whispered, "no, stay out of sight," and...

...and a white dragon crashed through the brush after the woman. Elena forgot to pull away, staring at the small, broken creature helplessly. It was barely larger than Frog! "Oh, you poor thing, what happened to you?" It whimpered again, and Elena rushed forward to pet and soothe it, while the woman stared at them with wild eyes, shocked into silence.

"You must come back with me," Elena said, breathlessly, carefully stroking around the chafe marks marring the dragon's bony neck. "You and your dragon. I don't care what you were planning, I will give the poor thing a sheep, I will give her a whole cow," she declared as the dragon thrilled and bumped her with its head.

The woman dropped a knife.

Elena barely had time to brace herself before the woman crashed bodily into her, and the next thing she knew was the feel of soft lips urgently mouthing over her own, and that lush body she'd noticed was pressing her against the dragon, and this was - Elena put her arms around the woman and let it happen, accepted the frantic kisses and kissed back, the first thing she'd wanted, that felt like the urgent way she'd wanted frogs, felt like riding. 

Slowly, the urgency died as Elena petted at her hair and shoulders like she was petting the dragon. The woman started at her, lips parted and mouth twisted in a way that said she was full of horrible feelings Elena knew well, doubt and fear and self-hate. It hurt to see, so Elena leaned forward and kissed her again gently, encouraging her to continue, daring to put her arms around the woman. 

Maybe it was foolish; maybe it was wrong. Elena didn't care, kissed harder, took the woman's hand and put it on her breast because she wanted to feel it, ran her hands down the curve of her back.

The woman rocked against her, pushed a strong thigh between her legs and mouthed at her jaw and down her throat when Elena tore her mouth away to pant for breath. "I will give you a cow too," she said, and the woman laughed, and laughed.

* * *

**#63**

When Arthur flipped open his phone and noticed the Grindr app notification, he barely managed to suppress a yawn. He was working late even though he'd promised Morgana to get home early, after she'd caught dozing off during a conference call with Hong-Kong. He would probably fall asleep at his desk. Again. But he was instantly awake when he saw a familiar face smiling at him from the screen of his iPhone.

'Emrys', Grindr told him, said "Hi."

The man - _boy_ \- on the profile picture had a big, flirtatious smile. The customized tag line told him Emrys was a "Young potential". Which was exactly how Gaius had described him when he’d suggested the PA internship. He didn't need the app telling him that this Grindr-member was only 20 feet away from him. 

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed, before he could think this through. Because saying ‘hi’ on Grindr basically meant ‘let's fuck’. And Arthur hadn't had a good fuck in forever. He didn't need his brain listing all the reasons why this was a bad idea. 

The moment Merlin entered his office, looking part eager, part sheepish, Arthur's brain fell quiet. With both hands he reached out to pull Merlin’s face close enough to kiss him hard. Getting over the initial surprise, Merlin’s lips opened easily, melting into the kiss. Arthur reached out with one hand to cup Merlin’s buttocks and pull him tighter against his burgeoning erection. Merlin groaned in response and kissed Arthur back almost feverishly. 

When they broke apart, Arthur asked, before Merlin could recover enough to say anything: "Why the hell are you even on Grindr?”  
It was a legitimate question; a young, hot piece of ass like Merlin should never have any trouble finding a bloke.

"I have a terrible gaydar.” Merlin blurted out. "Countryside bumpkin and all that," Merlin muttered, echoing the remark Arthur had made on Merlin's first day, when he'd asked Merlin where he was from. 

“Well, whatever you were hoping to get out of it tonight, I know what _I’ll_ be getting out of it. If I had known my PA was thus inclined, I would have had you looking after _other_ needs a lot earlier. It's not like I don't pay you enough.”

When Merlin looked nonplussed Arthur mentally kicked himself for crossing the line. But then Merlin was kissing him again, hands and long fingers tugging at the buttons and zipper on Arthur’s trousers. In a frenzy of movement, they stumbled towards Arthur’s desk; Arthur sitting down hard in his chair and Merlin’s sliding down awkwardly in front of him.

“You have done this before, right?” Arthur asked.

"Of course I have,” Merlin snapped, indignant. In one smooth gesture Arthur’s underwear was at his ankles.

So Merlin wasn’t as innocent as perverted punters on Grindr might hope from his boyish profile picture, but he wasn’t quite as experienced as Merlin himself would like to think he was. But what he lacked in skill, he made up in raw enthusiasm.

“You are the worst intern ever, really.” Arthur said, as he watched his cock slide in and out of Merlin’s sinuous mouth.

“When you manage not to spill it all over my shoes, the coffee you bring is always lukewarm at best.” 

Arthur gripped the hair on Merlin’s neck, loving the feel of Merlin moaning around his cock as he willingly let Arthur set the pace.

“Your copies are quite atrocious, documents are never in the right order.”

So close now. 

“Still. Gaius was right, you… are… talented,” he finally said in between the thrusts. 

When he came, his eyes didn’t leave Merlin’s, as he swallowed him down. 

“Fuck.” Arthur muttered, falling back into his chair.

“Yeah”, Merlin said, taking out his own cock in order to jerk of quickly. 

“Hold it!” 

Merlin looked up surprised and like the good student he was, halted his movements.

“I’m still your boss. You don’t get to come until I say you can,” Arthur continued, “and that is going to be _after_ I get my cock inside your arse.”

Arthur watched Merlins adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. "But you just..."

"You dare question my stamina?" Arthur asked sternly, 

Merlin smiled at that; his easy, cocky smile that reached up to his ridiculously big ears. 

Emrys’ Grindr profile was going to be deleted; Arthur decided. From now on, these smiles were for Arthur and Arthur alone to enjoy. Pervy punters be damned.

* * *

**#64**

Merlin had a way of dragging Arthur into trouble.

One time, in first grade, Merlin convinced Arthur that ‘freeing’ their caterpillars from their ‘plastic dungeons’ before they’d completed the project and received a grade would make Arthur the most noble knight in the city.

It was all downhill from there really. 

Idiot: please come here right now, that girl who always gets her boob out is here and she brought taco bell

Arthur sighed after reading it. He knew that logically he should ignore it. He wasn’t six anymore, he’d long since learned how to spot incoming trouble.

But . . . Merlin was now at that stupid art school on the other side of campus so Arthur convinced himself that it would be fine, because he hadn’t seen Merlin in two days. He’d just stop by for a second, make sure Merlin was okay. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Wrong. 

Well, there was taco bell, and a boob, but there was also an orgy.

Arthur stood there and thought over his life choices, because what did one do, really, when they walked in on that? 

Arthur zeroed in on Merlin, his long neck, the sound—he suddenly realized the moaning was obscene and stepped forward as he shut the door.

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze.

Arthur just looked at his eyes. There was more interesting things going on, like the Merlin and Freya sandwich. But those blue eyes were probably the safest spot.

Arthur registered that it was Gwaine, Merlin’s new roommate, that was flush against Merlin’s backside, and that Freya was flush against Merlin’s front, rocking into him as her hand pumped between Vivian’s—the boob girl’s—legs.

Merlin gestured around wildly as he moaned out, “hoodie . . . ah . . . pocket.”

When he found it there was only a condom in the pocket.

Arthur raised a skeptical brow and absently let the hoodie fall, “You want me too . . .”

Merlin glared up at him but quickly pinched his eyes shut as Gwaine thrust, hard, and bit the nape of his neck. Merlin recovered and panted, “Not if you don’t want to.”

That was how Arthur ended up in a desk chair, butt ass naked, with Vivian straddling him as she bounced up and down on his cock. 

Arthur could only focus on her for about five seconds before his eyes dropped back down. He knew somewhere in his mind that that was probably fucked, but well.

Merlin was taking some bloke’s cock up his arse. Merlin’s hard dick was right there, all thick, and like, hard as he thrust into Freya. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know about his thing for Merlin, because he knew. He just thought it should be avoided. 

Well, Arthur couldn’t avoid it that time. There was no way in hell. 

So, Arthur watched. 

When his eyes flickered back to Merlin’s face he was surprised that Merlin’s eyes were fixed on him.   
Then, suddenly, Merlin was slapping at Gwaine as he pulled out of Freya. 

For a second, Arthur died, because he actually thought Merlin was about to have sex with him instead. He had a vision of Merlin pulling Vivian off and everything when he heard a snap and looked down to see Merlin take the condom off.

Arthur’s lips fell open as Merlin took a step forward and flicked his cock against them. 

Arthur took it into his mouth easily, and Merlin let out a surprised moan as he fisted his hand through Arthur’s hair.

Arthur swallowed Merlin down. Merlin was thrusting but he didn’t need to because Arthur bobbed so enthusiastically that Merlin’s head hit the back of his throat with every thrust. 

Somewhere Arthur registered it as he started snapping his hips up into Vivian as she fell against him with a series of bitten-off moans. Arthur absently took the weight, curled around her and sat up so he could keep sucking Merlin’s hardness down. 

Merlin spread his legs and Arthur had an urge to touch so he reached between Merlin’s legs and fondled his balls before he pressed two fingers against Merlin’s hole. Merlin moaned and Arthur went for it, pressed two fingers in.

Arthur pumped them once, then twice, and Merlin clenched down tight around them. 

A second later, Merlin pulsed and spilled down Arthur’s throat. Arthur’s orgasm tore through him as the taste spread throughout his mouth.

Well, damn. At least he’d remembered the condom.

Arthur wasn’t in too much trouble that time.

* * *

**#65**

_I got one less problem without cha,_  
I got one less problem without cha,  
WOOOOOOOOP 

At this hour, any ringtone would be obnoxious, but the one Merlin had assigned to Arthur was especially jarring. He groaned, cracked one eye open, and dragged himself up onto his elbows to peer at the bright rectangle of light on his nightstand. As a spastic saxophone riff entered the fray of noise, he groped desperately for his phone, and swiped a finger across its surface.

His screen showed a view of a toilet paper roll on the back of a loo. The sound of a very copious amount of liquid hitting more liquid also served as a clue to Arthur’s current whereabouts.

Merlin cleared his throat. “Arthur?” he said. The sound of pissing went on. “ARTHUR?” His voice sounded too-loud as it was, having just awakened.

The view swiveled to reveal Arthur’s face. His blond hair was touselled, his blue eyes were glazed over, and his mouth was twisted up to one side in a loopy grin. “Heyyyy!!!” he said. About that time, he finally stopped pissing.

“Arthur, it’s three in the morning. Is everything all right?”

“Everythin’s peachy, Mer-lin. Wha’s s’up?” His words slurred together lazily.

“Ehm, nothing. You called me.”

“I did?” 

“Yes, Arthur. You did. Waking me from a bloody sound sleep, I…should…add…”

Arthur’s phone started lowering, but not in the freefall that Merlin would associate with someone passing out. This was deliberate. He noticed, for the first time, that Arthur was shirtless. Arthur held the phone in a lingering manner to face his nipples, and then dragged it down his rather-nicely-muscled stomach, until the view stalled at his belly button. 

“Arthur, w-what are you doing?”

“Jus’ saying heyyyy!!!”

Right then the bathroom door opened. Arthur’s phone moved to a level surface – a countertop, most likely – and the closely-shorn head of a complete stranger came into view. “Hey, you. Doin’ okay in here?” the stranger rumbled, and then they both sidled out of view, leaving Merlin to stare at the ceiling. 

He could swear he heard the sounds of making-out. “...Arthur?”

“Heyyyy!!!” Arthur said, picking up the phone and grinning into it again.

“Arthur, who is that?” Merlin’s voice lowered to a dramatic whisper.

“Oh, thissis Percy! Say hi t’ Merlin, Percy!”

Percy smiled and leaned toward Arthur. From this new angle, Merlin could see them locking lips this time, in a deep, sloppy kiss. Well, Arthur’s end was sloppy, anyway.

Merlin stared. “You…you fancy men?”

“Gwen issint th' only one who gets t' be bisexual innis town!!” Arthur said, belligerently.

Percy took the phone. “Do _you_ fancy men?” he asked, a smile quirking his lips. His eyes seemed to bore straight through the screen to Merlin's own. Merlin could feel his cheeks getting hot. 

Percy seemed to take that well enough as an answer; he grinned, and winked. “Talk to you later, Merlin,” he said, and the connection cut off.

And Merlin was left alone in the dark again, to try to get back to sleep. But he couldn’t, because now he was horny.

“Why did you have to call me, you git?”

Merlin lowered his hand to his cock, and thought of what those two might be doing, right now.

But, no, that wasn’t quite good enough. Shyly, as if he expected them to turn around at any moment, notice he was there, and start laughing at his hubris, he decided to imagine that they were both with _him_.

He decided that Percy would be the one who would take him from behind. In Arthur’s current state, he most likely would perform the sexual equivalent of wrapping himself around a telephone pole and dying in a fiery explosion if he attempted anal. Arthur could suck his dick. He tried not to think about shoving too deeply down Arthur’s throat – that probably also was not a good idea. He could just be suckling the tip of him instead. That big, loopy mouth, wrapping its smirking lips around his weeping head, tongue sloppily licking the constant torrent of precum from his slit…

“Ohhh yeah,” he sighed.

He grabbed his nuts with his left hand and squeezed them, slow and hard, imagining Percy grabbing them from behind.

“Oh God, oh yes, oh God, you both…” He was so close...

“ _That’s it, boy, take it,_ ” Percy would grunt…

“ _Give it to me, Merlin. Come for me_ ,” Arthur would say, suddenly sober, his expression hungry. 

Merlin yelled, and spent himself all over his bedspread.

“Fucking prat,” Merlin mumbled, once he'd cleaned up, and set his phone to vibrating mode.

* * *

**#66**

Arthur has never considered taking a day off his job.

Recovering from a _bracing_ trip to the surgeon's office, for two wisdom teeth being extracted, changes that without argument.

The swelling isn't horrible, but he's told it will increase in another day. Annis, his usual orthodontist, warns him to stay hydrated with cold fluids. Not fancying the idea of getting dizzy again, Arthur shuffles to the kitchenette, tenderly fingering the left of his jaw.

He hears his flatmate talking in murmurs, likely on her mobile, and shrugs it off. Arthur turns the hallway corner, and comes to a complete halt.

Before anyone assumes the worst of him, Arthur _knows_ he should turn and disappear back into his room. Because staring at his female and very topless flatmate isn't very… gentlemen-like.

And for the record, he's not _staring_.

She's not looking at him, with her curly, dark hair flowing over her shoulder; Arthur suspects she hasn't even figured out he's there.

There's something fantastic and radiant about Morgana le Faye. And it's not _entirely_ to do with the diamond pendant cradled in her breasts.

“Hmm, that sounds lovely… having you fuck my breasts,” she purrs. 

The person on video-cam licks his lips when Morgana's hands cup and very subtly push them together. Royal-red fingernails brush her soft, erect nipples.

“How about it, handsome? Would you like that?”

Why yes, yes in fact he wou— _oh god_. Arthur's cock is thickening fast in his pyjama trousers and he needs to sod off.

“Shite, yea, I'd—” The handsome, equally dark-haired bloke on the video blinks. He asks, squinting his eyes curiously at Arthur. “Oi, who's that?”

Morgana's head whips around, and if looks could actually kill someone, Arthur expects himself six feet by now.

He finds himself dragged out of view of Morgana's laptop.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Arthur?”

“Who the hell is that?” Arthur does his best to keep his gaze from the diamond pendant, and consequently her bare chest. “Jesus christ, Morgana—are you a bloody _call girl_?” he nearly yells.

“I'm doing business, you tosspot,” Morgana hisses, green eyes livid. “It's good fucking money and you're mucking it up. Why aren't you with Merlin?”

Arthur twists up his expression. “He _fusses_.”

“Then marry the poor lad and you can make those quickies you lot have on Thursdays and Fridays official,” she says, and the quirk of her slim mouth is _lovely_ , and he's certain that Morgana is nothing but evil.

He flushes ugly.

They're not fully out of view of the camera. The bloke calls out, semi-interested, “How much to watch you two have a go?”

Morgana gives him a sultry look, anger dissipating into coy nature. “Would you like me to suck him off?”   
Arthur furrows his eyebrows—what?

“That would be _beautiful_.”

The gravelly tone of Morgana's customer… Arthur knows he's heard that voice before. 

Not sure where, but at the moment, he's distracted by his jaw complaining about the pain and his stomach being empty, and his toes _curling_ as Morgana ushers him back and yanking down his trousers.

Arthur tries not to peek in the corners of his eyes at the bloke wanking on-screen. In the haze of arousal and confusion, he wonders about agreeing to have a film of expensive lipstick smear over the base of his cock.

It's like any other blowjob, heat and sensually wet, but lacks the rough bristle of Merlin's lip-hair and familiar stretch of his grin. How Merlin pale, spindly fingers tease his arsehole… 

Arthur clutches his hands, falling into the expert rocking motions of Morgana's head and her throat swallowing his cock.

Off to his right, the bloke starts panting.

“Oh god, godalmighty, I'm gonna come…”

Arthur scrunches his face, ignoring how it sends a twinge down his neck.

“Is that _Gwaine_ —?” he asks loudly, now outright staring at the laptop. Before he can get Morgana to pull off, the screen goes black.

Morgana smacks Arthur's furry thigh, open-handed.

“You're _lucky_ he paid up front,” she says, glaring right back as Arthur does. He stuffs himself back into his pyjamas.

“Leave a—a damn sock, or your _bra_ out next time!”

Morgana shouts at his back, “That only works on a DOOR!”

“Then _leave it on MINE_!”

Arthur half-smiles to himself while grabbing a bottle of water. Merlin is going to absolutely love this story.

* * *

**#67**

Freya's always seemed small until the night he asks her about her fantasies and she climbs on top of him and says, "I dream about seeing you get fucked."

And suddenly she's everywhere, spreading her frame over his back, mouthing at his shoulder, squeezing his dick with a strong, sure hand. He never knew she could be so big, so hard. 

"I could do it myself," she says, her thumb pushing back along his taint while her fingers keep stroking his cock. "I've got a couple dicks in my drawer. But what I really want is to sit back and feel myself up while you take it up the ass from some big, strong man. You never have, have you?"

Merlin shakes his head while he jerks forward into her hold, shoves back against the hard pressure of her pubic bone.

"But you've thought about it, yeah? How good it's gonna feel to have his fingers open you up? How you're gonna come with his dick in your ass?"

"I –" Merlin pants while she rides him. There are words ( _yes_ ) but they're out of reach ( _how_ ) and that seems ( _Arthur, please_ ) to be okay. She pushes and pulls and bites and growls until he yells and spends in her hand. Freya lets go of him, works her hand between his upper thigh and her wet cunt, and rubs until she comes.

It's the fourth time they've gone at it and the first time it’s gotten her off.

Her smile is shy and sweet, the Freya he knows again, when she says, "I think we should see other people."

* * *

"Freya's been missing her calling as a lesbian wingman," Elena announces as she comes in the door. "Last night was the hottest sex I've ever had in my life, and I have your ex-girlfriend to thank."

"Thanks, El, that makes me feel really awesome about our breakup."

"Oh, don't be a baby. You were missing your calling as a pining gay man and she was right to call you on it."

Merlin just frowns, because this is more or less fair. Elena also frowns, because there's a pair of men's underwear lying on the couch. Merlin shrugs, so she tosses them toward Will and Gilli's room and sits down.

"Honestly, we're both lucky to have her for a friend. She not only made me appear extra intensely desirable by holding my hand and whispering sweetly in my ear at the bar. She also realized there was no way I could bring _Morgana fucking Pendragon_ back to this shithole. So she let me use her apartment! Her actual bed, if you can believe that."

"Her text from last night makes more sense now," Merlin says evenly while his brain falls into a loop of _Morgana fucking Pendragon_ , _fucking Pendragon_ , and eventually just, _fuuuuuck_.

"You know those bars on Freya's headboard?"

Merlin knows. If Freya were here she'd smile and lower her gaze. Still, after all the filth he's heard come out of her mouth. Sometimes he really misses Freya's filthy mouth.

* * *

He gets to hear a lot more about the affair both at home and at work over the next two months, since Morgana has no more compunction over talking dildos and nipple clamps and feelings with her brother than Elena does with her roommates. 

Mostly Merlin keeps on typing, pretending the office walls are soundproof. Then one day he hears, "Listen, Morgana, I get that the cliché says men are supposed to be excited by this kind of talk, but you've known I was gay since high school. Can’t you please go write in to a porn mag so I can get some work done?"

It only takes Merlin another two months to ask Arthur out, and only two days after that to find himself naked in Arthur's bed, sucking cock for the very first time while Arthur moans and trembles and pets his hair.

It's glorious and beautiful and, just as Freya had predicted, more satisfying than any sex he’s ever had.

It's not as glorious and beautiful as he’d imagined. At first he can’t figure out what’s missing.

The fourth time they go at it (in Arthur's office, because fuck, who’s gonna complain?) Merlin asks about Arthur's fantasies. Arthur goes quiet for a minute and then turns toward the window, slowly opens the blinds.

"You want somebody to watch?" Merlin says, a grin spreading over his face as Arthur nods. "Perfect. I know just where we can go."

* * *

**#68**

Mordred's skulking somewhere; too old for his mothers party, and to young to know that the secret to being left alone is making an appearance.

The barbecue is an annual thing. One evening in summer, the garden lights are left on, the patio doors are propped open, and Hunith's guests are given free reign of the garden, kitchen and living room.

All the neighbours are invited, because his mother wouldn’t leave anyone out. But there's never normally anyone Merlin's age. This year though, there's Arthur, from a few streets away, weaving through the crowd, looking for something.

They had kissed once, when they were fourteen and so sure they were the only gay boys for miles around.

“What you after?”

“Alcohol.”

“Sorry mate, too many kids running about.”

“Ah,”

“I can get you some wine though...”

He raids the cupboards and serves them both a half a plastic cup, while Arthur watches him, rather intently, and Merlin's surprised by the shiver that runs down his spine. It scares him, and thrills him.

If he's honest, he's not the type to take sex lightly.

If he's honest, losing his virginity will always mean something.

If he's honest.

But he wants to know what “just a fuck” is.

And he needs for Gwaine to _not be the only person he's ever fucked_.

And Arthur's gorgeous and surely that's reason enough.

“Isn't this fun” Merlin sing-songs with a grin.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, and Merlin sees his mouth twitch.

“But we could be having more fun.” Merlin says, all fake innocence and cheesy as heck.

Arthur's eyes slide to Merlin's and he's fixed with a steady, searching gaze.

“I'm sure we could.” he replies evenly.

Merlin's heart gives an electric jolt. For all he tries to act confident and sarcastic, Merlin has never done this before.

“Follow me.”

With one glance up and down the corridor, Merlin lets Arthur into the downstairs guest bedroom, slipping in afterwards. Arthur sits on the bed. Merlin goes to sit cross legged further up, and it's so awkward, that Merlin opens his mouth to apologise.

But then Arthur turns and drags Merlin closer, brings their lips together, forcing Merlin to shuffle hastily down the bed.

The kiss is steady and controlled, and Merlin doesn't like it.

They kiss just _continues_ and Merlin knows Arthur is waiting for him to chicken out. The guy is being a noble ass and he's being a coward, and this isn't hot at all, it's embarrassing.  
Merlin screws up the courage to sneak one hand under Arthur’s shirt, runs it up his side, over the slight curves of muscle and bone.

Arthur breaks the kiss and just looks at Merlin. Merlin grins as wide as he can, tugs at Arthur’s shirt until he allows it over his head, and removes his own.

Arthur’s eyes finally move from Merlin's face to his chest, his face slackening, and he runs a finger over one nipple. Merlin gives a breathless “oh,” of surprise, and then their lips collide, and this time it's desperate, and unforgiving.

They're kneeling face to face and it's hard, but Arthur somehow manages to tug both their jeans off, and then he's palming Merlin through his boxers, and the unexpected stimulation makes Merlin choke, but it leaves him bereft when it's gone as soon as it came, and Arthur's tugging their boxers off.

Arthur breaks the kiss and they both look down between them.

Arthur drags one finger from Merlin's knee, slowly, lightly, up the inside of Merlins thigh.  
Merlin fights to keep his breathing even, even though it feels as though his lungs are going to cave in, even though he gulps and trembles as the touch leaves his skin aching.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers almost reverently.

Merlin wonders suddenly if this means more to Arthur than it does to him.

“Merlin?”

Merlin's eye snap up to meet Arthur's, wide with panic.

“Mom?!?”  
Her footsteps start down the hall,

“I want you to take round the canapés. And could you distract Aiden and Jesse again? They're terrorising the cat. I'd-”

She bursts through the door and stops short, surprised

“What are you doing in bed love? Are you feeling ok?”

Upstairs, Mordred just happens to glance out his window. He then has to do a double take, because some blonde guy is stumbling from the lit front yard, out into the night. And he's completely starkers.

* * *

**#69**

"Sooooo," Arthur said, scratching at the back of his head. "Could you, like, bite my neck now?"

"I hate you so much." Merlin rolled his eyes. "I have no idea why I agreed to this."

"Because you're my best friend ever?" Arthur tried a cheesy grin. They usually worked. Merlin only glared.

Okay, so maybe it was a weird thing to just ask your best friend. But Arthur was going to the best fancy dress party of the year and he was not going to be outdone. His costume called for a lovebite, so he was going to show up with one, even though his girlfriend dumped him last week. And he couldn't reach his own neck. Not that he'd tried. Twice.

"Pleaseee," he wheedled, sidling up to Merlin to hook his chin over Merlin's shoulder. "I'll give you one back."

"What the fuck." Merlin shrugged him off with a jerk and backed away, stopping when he hit the back of the couch. "Why the _fuck_ would I want one back?"

Arthur threw up his hands. "It could happen!" Snagging Merlin by a belt loop, he pulled him in close, keeping him there with firm hands on his hips. 

"Please." Arthur tried to look pitiful. "It would mean a lot to me. I'll give you 500 best friend points."

"That isn't a real thing." Merlin only looked vaguely annoyed now, his mouth curled up at the corner. "But I guess if I do this I can mock you until the end of time, right?"

"Right!" Arthur smiled and stretched his neck, offering it to Merlin. Merlin put hesitant hands on Arthur's shoulders, but looked reluctant to lean in.

"Not too hard," Arthur directed, "but it should be pretty dark. Pity I didn't think to ask you last night. Any time now."

"Would you shut the fuck up?" 

Merlin's teeth on his neck made Arthur suck in a breath. Heat raced down his spine, as Merlin licked gently, moved away, and then- fuck- bit harder, before starting to suck.

"Fuck." Arthur's pants were- yep- definitely were tighter. His heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to fall over. Heat was pooling in his belly, and Arthur could swear he'd never gotten half-hard this fast in his life. 

Merlin had a bit of stubble on his chin, and it scraped over Arthur's tender flesh, making Arthur clutch harder onto Merlin's hips, swaying. He was desperately trying to contain the moan threatening its way out inside his chest. The little whining sound he could hear told him he was failing.

Merlin pulled his lips away and Arthur made a choked noise. He was panting, he realized. Fuck.

"Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath but his boner was there to stay.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur opened his eyes. Merlin looked concerned.

"I'm about to come over your left thigh," Arthur blurted, then blinked as Merlin's eyes flicked down and darkened. 

He looked up at Arthur from under his lashes. "Do you want me to..."

"Fuck- Yes. Please." Arthur yanked at him by the hips, pressing their torsos together and putting Merlin back in the perfect position to suck at his neck.

Merlin picked a spot just under the first one and Arthur couldn't hold back his groan as he hitched his hips, rutting up against Merlin's thigh. 

There was more suction and licking this time- less teeth- but the rasp of stubble still sent sparks of pleasure down Arthur's spine. He cried out when he felt Merlin's hand on his cock, squeezing him through the denim.

Leaning forward, he bit at Merlin's neck, smoothing it with his tongue as he hitched his hips into Merlin's hand. 

"You're never living this down," Merlin whispered, before biting at a spot just under Arthur's jaw. It was a little too hard, but the sharp pain made Arthur come in his pants all the same. 

Arthur rode out the aftershocks before pulling away from Merlin's neck. He'd made some wicked teeth marks.

Merlin stepped away and winced as he touched his neck. "Well, I wasn't expecting reciprocation."

"Sorry." Arthur tried to look contrite, but could only manage a lazy smile. "You're the best mate."

Merlin was incredulous. "Damn right I am."

Arthur slung an arm over his shoulder. "So, wanna be my date tonight? We have matching costumes." 

Merlin shoved him.

* * *

**#70**

Morgana brushed her hand gently across Gwen’s cheek and smiled cruelly when she flinched. She tried to scurry away from her but Morgana was right behind her every step of the way. Gwen only stopped running until she hit the wall and couldn’t go any further.

“Oh, Gwen I wish you wouldn’t treat me this way. We used to be good friends, remember?” Morgana asked. She reached out to tuck some hair behind Gwen’s ear and expected the flinch. It only made her smile widen.

“Don’t touch me!” Gwen shouted as she jerked away.

It caught Morgana by surprise but the smile never wavered. Instead, she pushed closer until she was practically pinning Gwen against the wall with her body.

“You never used to mind my touch, Gwen,” Morgana whispered close to her ear. “I remember the times you used to comfort me on those terrible nights and you were always eager when I returned the favor.”

Gwen shook her head. “Get away from me.”

She smiled and stepped back to walk towards the door. “I only want to be friends, Gwen and until you accept that you’re not going anywhere.”

“Wait!” Gwen cried. “Please, don’t go Morgana.”

Morgana paused and turned. “Beg me again.”

A few days of isolation had clearly began to take its toll on Gwen. She displayed weak defiance in the beginning but it was quickly fading.

“Morgana, please don’t go. Please.”

Smiling, she retraced her steps and leaned close to Gwen. “Do you want me to stay with you, Gwen?”

Gwen gave a shameful, jerky nod. It wasn’t enough for Morgana though.

“How badly do you want me to stay?” Morgana murmured. She was leaning closer to Gwen now and placed a hand on her cheek. It didn’t stay there long and began to slide down the length of her body. The touch wasn’t hesitant and while Gwen’s face said one thing her body was saying something else entirely.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Gwen whispered pitifully.

Morgana smiled and leaned down to kiss her gently. The desire she once held for Gwen was long gone but the idea taking her brother’s precious wife and Camelot’s false Queen filled her with another, darker type of desire.

A hand slid down to cup Gwen’s breast through her gown. The other woman shuddered but didn’t push her away. Gwen trembled and seemed to accept Morgana’s touch. When Morgana pinched her nipple she (very slightly) arched into her touch. It spoke volumes to Morgana because despite Gwen’s protests there was still a part of her that wanted this.

“Morgana…” she whispered.

“What, Gwen?” Morgana asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her soon touches grew firmer and bolder. A hand hiked up Gwen’s dirty gown and pressed against her folds.

The more Morgana moved her fingers inside Gwen the quieter her attempted protests became. It wasn’t long before the supposed Queen of Camelot was silently begging her to move her fingers faster and touch her more.

“Come for me, Gwen.”

Gwen came with a small shudder. When Morgana pulled away she slumped to the floor and started to cry softly.

“I’ll see you later for dinner, Gwen.”

She gasped. “Morgana, no! You said you wouldn’t leave me alone again!”

After she closed the door behind her Morgana could hear the screams and pleas from Gwen. The sound of her cries only reaffirmed the fact that her plan was indeed working. It wouldn’t be long before Arthur was dead and she (the rightful heir) took her place on Camelot’s throne.

Morgana only had to wait and by now she was very good at waiting.

* * *

**#71**

My Own Commander

"We're dressed wrong!" Gwen exclaimed, giggling and resting heavily against Morgana. "You're the witch, you should be Morrigan. But then I wouldn't have my own Commander to rescue me." 

Gwen frowned at Morgana, the expression about as adorable as a puzzled cat, and Morgana couldn't resist swooping in to kiss Gwen on the nose. "You look better in the dress than I do."

"The corset does do wonders, doesn't it?" Gwen glanced down while reaching up to cup her boobs, pushing them up even higher. 

"You tease," Morgana murmured, staring down at Gwen's cleavage. "You're the perfect Morrigan." 

It took a moment, but Morgana untangled herself from Gwen, pushing her back against the wall. There was a heavy bass line playing in the next room that Morgana could feel echoing in her bones and pooling low in her stomach, and without preamble, she dropped to her knees.

The skirt Gwen was wearing was huge and poofy, but there was only one petticoat beneath it, so Morgana was easily able to slip beneath it and spread Gwen's legs with her shoulders, settling between them.

"Morgana!" Gwen squeaked, scandalized despite the tequila she'd imbibed. Morgana could picture the red flush blooming on her cheeks, tinting her skin even darker. 

It was dark beneath the skirt, but Morgana wasn't concerned about that; she knew Gwen's body nearly as well as her own, and her fingers found her slit with unerring skill. What did trip her up was the absence of material - Gwen had forgone panties. 

"Fuck," Morgana breathed, pressing a kiss to Gwen's inner thigh and dragging her mouth up the soft skin there, so she could flick her tongue across Gwen's clit, the nub already hard. Morgana could picture Gwen, mouth open on a silent moan and eyes wild, chest heaving. The fact that Morgana couldn't see her made the thought so much hotter.

Normally, Morgana would take her time, teasing and tormenting until Gwen was sobbing, trembling with pleasure and begging Morgana for release. But those were sights only she could see, and the threat of someone discovering them loomed ever so close. She'd have to settle for something quick and fast, fingers and tongue working together to bring Gwen off.

She slid two fingers inside Gwen, alternating between curling them to press against her g-spot and scissoring to stretch her wider. Gwen didn't like clitoral stimulation until she was closer to orgasm, and that gave Morgana a chance to just lick at her slit, teasing and nipping at the labia and occasionally sliding her tongue inside Gwen's pussy, right next to her fingers. 

Morgana could feel Gwen's fingers against her scalp, although it was faint and they didn't remain there for long - the skirt was far too bulky to allow her to hold on. Morgana could imagine her fingers scrambling against the wall, desperate for purchase but finding none. The struggle to remain upright was a tense one.

Gwen's thighs started to tense and Morgana moved her tongue, finding Gwen's clit once again and drawing it into her mouth, and slid a third finger inside her girlfriend, curling and thrusting. It didn't take long before she was squirting, drenching Morgana's hand and her chin. Morgana kept fucking her through it, feeling Gwen tremble. There were muffled moans, and Morgana wasn't sure if they were muffled from the skirt or Gwen clamping a hand over her mouth, or both. 

A minute later, Morgana drew away, fighting her way from beneath the skirt. Gwen was leaning heavily against the wall, chest heaving in the corset, her eyes glazed. The Halloween party was still going on in the house around them, but Morgana wanted nothing more than to escape to their apartment and curl up against her girlfriend. 

"Let's go home," she said, giving Gwen a brief kiss. She expected no protest and when none followed, she grasped Gwen's hand, dragging her away.

-

Gwen: _You are the sheppard guiding me straight away from horrible decisions._

Gwen typed out the message and hit send, listening to the vibration from Morgana's phone on the nightstand nearest Morgana. 

Gwen: _Straight. Hehe._

Gwen: _Get it? You were Shepard and shepherding me away from the tequila._

"No texting me in bed," Morgana mumbled, flapping a hand in Gwen's direction. "And you better not be making terrible straight or Shepard puns or so help me I'm tying you up later."

* * *

**#72**

Merlin’s breath hitched. His knees felt weak and he grasped the edge of the table harder. This was never how he imagined himself; pushed against Arthur’s dining table, breeches down to his ankles, and the prince of Camelot on his knees in front of the servant, lips wrapped around Merlin’s cock.

Arthur teased his slit, making Merlin cry out. He shoved his fist in his mouth. It wouldn’t do to have the guards rush into the room, finding them like this. 

“So beautiful.” Arthur murmured, moving to press kisses against Merlin’s hip. Merlin tangled his fingers in Arthur’s hair, scraping lightly against his scalp. 

Arthur moaned, the vibrations against Merlin’s cock were too much for him, and he came into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur pulled off coughing and sputtering, trying to swallow as much of the cum as he could, but a little escaped past his lips. 

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out with his thumb to wipe it off. 

Arthur looked up at him with big eyes, taking Merlin’s thumb into his mouth and sucking off the cum with expertise.

As Merlin reached down and pulled his breeches back on Arthur stood up, walking to his place at the table as is he had never just sucked off his servant.

“Where did that come from?” Merlin smiled, tucking himself back in and moving to pour the prince’s wine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Merlin.” Arthur said, beginning to eat his food without ever once looking up at Merlin. 

“You know.” Merlin ducked his head shyly. “What just happened. You sucked me off-”

“I did no such thing.” Arthur argued, still refusing to meet Merlin’s eyes. 

Why was Arthur refusing to acknowledge what just happened? Merlin wondered. He put down the jug of wine and moved around Arthur’s room, tidying up any stray objects Arthur left laying about.

After a few moment’s Arthur sighed. “What happened back there, Merlin, can never leave this room. If anyone were to know I got on my knees for a servant- the scandal would be too much for anyone. My father would be ashamed.”

Merlin turned to face the prince with a wry smile on his face. “You’re father would be ashamed his son was a cock-sucking whore?”  
“Mer-lin.” Arthur warned with only a voice a prince could muster. But Merlin could see his face turning red, the truth burning through.

Merlin walked slowly towards Arthur, each step slow and with purpose. “So what you’re saying is, that so long as you are in here, you can do whatever you wish, be the cock-sucker everyone would hate to see.”

Arthur’s face blushed a deeper red; Merlin could see that his commanding tone had an affect on the prince. Arthur nodded sharply.

“You want to suck cock.” Merlin teased. “You want to shed your duties, be lower than a prince.” He raked his fingers in Arthur’s hair, pulling in a way that made Arthur moan. 

“How about-” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear. “In your rooms, you be that little slut you want to be. Suck my cock whenever I feel like it. Be fucked if it so pleases you.” Arthur squirmed in his seat, trying to cover the erection in his lap. “And I’ll never speak a word of it if you be a good boy.”

Arthur cried out as Merlin turned the chair around, climbing into Arthur lap for a fierce, hot kiss.

Outside the bedroom, Arthur would be a prince, and Merlin his klutzy servant.

But in the bedroom, Merlin ruled, and no one would ever see what a great little cock-sucker his slut could be.

* * *


	8. Group D (clean)

**#73**

[](http://imgur.com/GOaH0vq)

* * *

**#74**

[](http://imgur.com/HJrHhAs)

* * *

**#75**

[](http://imgur.com/SEBaM7Q)

* * *

**#76**

[](http://imgur.com/hyuzFI1)

* * *

**#77**

[](http://imgur.com/JvqcxxW)

* * *

**#78**

[](http://imgur.com/KYmqERj)

* * *

**#79**

Hangovers are a pain in the bum

[](http://imgur.com/uEbL174)

* * *

**#80**

[](http://imgur.com/ucn5oHb)

* * *

**#81**

[](http://imgur.com/t3wyfpu)

* * *

**#82**

[](http://imgur.com/BgrUl6t)

* * *


End file.
